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MEMOIRS 



AND 



CONFESSIONS 



OF 



FRANCIS VOLKMAR REINHARD, S. T. D. 



COURT PREACHER AT DRESDEN. 



FROM THE GERMAN 



BY OLIVER A.'^TAYLOR, 

Resident Licentiate^ Theological Seminary, Andover. 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY PEIRCE AND PARKER, 

No. 9 Cornhill. 
NEW YORK :— H. C. SLEIGHT. 

Clinton Hall. 

1832. 






Entered; according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832, by Peirce & 
ParkeR; in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



PREFACE 



The first object of this work is to make the public 
acquainted with the life and character of the learned, 
pious, and eloquent F. V. Reinhard of the last genera- 
lion, for more than twenty years Chief-Court Preacher 
at Dresden. It is divided into two pans. The fifst com- 
prises his letters or confessions, in which he gives an ac- 
count of his education for the sacred ministry, and a gen- 
eral criticism of his sermons. These letters were occa- 
sioned by a review of some of his works in the Hall. Lit. 
Zeit , and v^^ritten during the winter evenings of 1809-10. 
They have passed through several editions, of which, how- 
ever, I have seen only the first. While translating Rein- 
hard's Plan of the Founder of Christianity, I became 
much interested in these letters ; and deeming them an 
excellent piece of autobiography, 1 thought they would 
constitute an acceptable present to the public ; and having 
consulted a friend, upon whose judgment I relied, who 
had also read them, and ascertained the coincidence of 
his views with my own in these respects, I prepared them 
for the press. In the mean time, I felt the need of mak- 



IV PREFACE. 

ing some additions to them by way of completing the view 
they give of their author ; and hence, added the memoirs 
or second part. The translation of the confessions was 
not a difficult task, but the second part has cost me much 
and severe labor. It has been drawn chiefly from Botti- 
ger's Delineation of Reinhard^s Character ; a pamphlet 
rich in materials, but written by an antiquary in an intricate, 
parenthetical style and full of learned allusions. It con- 
tains matter, however, drawn from other sources, interwo- 
ven with ideas of my own, the whole of which has been 
arranged in the order which struck me as the best.* The 
likeness which accompanies the volume was originally 
taken from a portrait of Reinhard, drawn three years before 
his death, by his brother-in-law Von Charpentier. This 
portrait was considered an excellent one. It supposes 
Reinhard to be sitting in his study. With one-iiand he 
sustains his head, while with the other resting on the Bible, 
he holds a manuscript, containing a train of thought de- 
duced from the Scriptures, in meditating upon which, the 
light of faith bursts in upon his mind, and he is supposed 
to exclaim, " Yea, thou art the truth." The look in the 
original is said to be very striking and destitute of all 
ambiguity. Much of its expressiveness was lost in the 
first process of reducing the portrait and engraving it. 

I am aware that the work will, after all, furnish but an 
imperfect account of Reinhard ; especially so, as all the 
biographies which have been written of him in Germany, are 
more or less imperfect, time enough not havingyet elapsed 
to permit many of his letters, directed as they were, to per- 
sons still on the theatre of action, to be brought from their 

* Perhaps ihe reader should be iuformed, that I have noi reduced the dol-- 
lars named in the course of the work, to our own currenc}? 5 and hence, ihg^t 
^ey express a little too, much. 



PREFACE. 



hiding-places From what is said, however, the reader will 
readil}' perceive, that Reinhard was no ordinary personage. 
Few have been more respected or useful in life, or more 
sincerely and universally lamented in death. The news 
of his decease clad ojd and young with mourning, and 
called forth spontaneous expressions of sorrow from almost 
every quarter. He appears to have been equally con- 
spicuous as a scholar, philosopher and Christian. He had 
no deformities or excrescences of any kind. He was well 
proportioned in every part, and constituted a harmonious 
whole. On prying into his character, we meet with no 
disappointment, nothing offensive. The more we exam- 
ine it, the more we find to admire. To develop such a 
character unable as w^e are to penetrate the sacred inte- 
rior of the mind, and forced to content ourselves with its 
external phenomena, is, of course though desirable, a dif- 
ficult task. It is delightful, however, amidst the pain and 
disgust felt by every reader of biography, on discovering 
in its most exahed characters, unanticipated faults and de- 
fects, to find here and there one, which we can contem- 
plate with pleasure, and examine with satisfaction, con- 
stantly cheered with new beauties and excellencies, and 
assured of something superior beyond.'^* 

My sole object, however, in this work, is not to make 
the public acquainted with Reinhard's character. From 
his confessions I fondly hope for some beneficial results to 
the cause of truth. Not that the views expressed in the 
ninth letter, which excited such commotion among Ra- 
tionalists and others in Germany on the first appearance 
of this work, are new to our countryme *. T he two prin- 
ciples there laid down have long been looked upon to a 
greater or less degree by Evangelical Christians among 
us, as the only ones in the case to which a consistent think- 
er can resort, as a third does not exist ; and to reason as 
*1 



Yi FREFAGE. 

Tzschirner has done, (see Note, p. 64,) is, as Reinhard 
justly remarks in a letter to Politz,*a petitio elenchi, the 
contents of the Bible having nothing to do with the ques- 
tion. I refer to the naain object for which these letters 
were written by Reinhard ; which was, by pointing out 
the excellencies and defects of his own education, and by 
various hints, to show young candidates for the sacred min- 
istry, the course they should take in preparing for it, as 
well as after they have entered upon the performance of 
its duties. Coming as these letters do, from one of the 
most distinguished preachers of his age, they must be de- 
serving of attention in this respect. Will not some, on 
reading what is said in the sixth letter about eloquence, 
discover, that they have hitherto had wrong conceptions 
of it, and been unable even to define it f Will they not 
be compelled to admit, that they have often spoken in 
tones of thunder, when they should have spoken in tones 
of sympathy and tenderness; and by their manner excited 
strong suspicions of hypocrisy, when they thought them- 
selves exhibiting the strongest proofs of sincerity ? Will 
not some, on reading what Reinhard says about the study 
of the poets, find they have almost entirely neglected it, 
and hence, failed to use the best means possible, for culti- 
vating susceptibility of emotion, without which, genuine 
eloquence cannot exist ? And may I not hope, that they 
will hereafter follow his example, and apply themselves to 
Milton. Shakespeare, Cowper, and even the imperfect Eng- 
lish translation of Klopstock's Messiah? — a work, which 
by its spirit throws mor^ light upon some passages of the 
Gospels, than half the commentaries which have ever, 
been written. And may not some when they read what 
Reinhard says of the importance of general literature to a 
preacher of the Gospel, find that they are quite deficient. 



PREFACE!. Vn 

in this respect ? Those upon whom this work produces any 
such effects, will soon perceive^ that little time enough is al- 
lowed the young disciple for a preparatory course, and that 
all systematic study should not be brought to a close, as it 
too generally is, as soon as a man is comfortably settled in 
the ministry. I hope that the motives which have dictated 
these remarks, will not be misapprehended. That they are 
well founded, those who reflectupon the subject, will, I fear, 
find too much reason to believe. I know the ambassador of 
the cross is not at liberty to turn aside into the field of litera- 
ture, to pluck a single useless flower. With every branch 
of study, however, which bears upon the business intrusted 
to his hands, qualifies him to a greater or less degree, for 
detecting the sophisms upon which error is founded, and 
enables him to trace the truth back through nature up to 
nature^ s God, he should be intimately acquainted. No 
matter how ardent his imagination may be, or acute his 
reasoning powers. The greater his genius in these re- 
spects^ the more necessary is it for him to have a thor- 
ough training, lest, through ignorance of the history of 
other men's thoughts, he suppose himself peculiarly favor- 
ed of heaven, and become a dangerous fanatic. There 
is no possibility of a minister's being too skilful in reason- 
ing, or in detecting the movements of the heart. Chris- 
tianity addresses itself to the noblest faculties of the hu- 
man soul, and unlike every other religion, challenges the 
most thorough and extensive investigation ; and in no oth- 
er way than by a constant exercise of all the faculties of 
the mind in seeking truth and practising it, can one be 
suitably qualified to act as a negociator between God and 
man. Amidst the glorious revivals with which we are 
blessed, is there no danger of our degenerating in this re- 
spect from our fathers, those giant minds and rigid students 
of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries ? But I tread 



Vm PREFACE. 

on sacred ground and am entering a field wide and allur- 
ing, which I must not venture to explore. 

The Lord grant, that the light of truth may beam forth, 
until Atheism and infidelity, which fade away before it 
like dew before the sun, are banished from the earth, and 
Jesus Christ is worshipped as the God of the universe. 

Oliver A. Taylor. 

AndoveVj Theological Seminary, March 12th, 1832i 



CONTENTS 



PART I. 



LETTER I. 

Page. 

Apology for these letters — Object of them — Reasons which induced the 
author to publish so many sermons 5 ----- • 13 

LETTER II. 

Early education — Instructed by his father— Becomes attached to well- 
arranged sermons — -Learns the ancient laug^uages — Fond of poetry, 
but destitute of good poets — Gets hold of llaller} - - - 17 

LETTER III. 

Father dies — Goes to Regensburg or Ralisbon— Gets hold of other 
poets — Notice of his instructors — Account of his studies — Admires 
Cicero — Reads French and Italian works — Makes verses} - - 21 

LETTER IV. 

Answers the questions, why he did not read sermons for personal edi- 
fication, or ministerial improvement — Remains at Regensburg as 
auditor — Connexion with Prof. Grimm — Acquires a deep relish for 
the Crusian philosophy 5 27 

LETTER V . 

Goes to Wittemberg — Resolves to devote himself to the ministry — 
Applies closely to the most important studies — Hears Schioc-kh on 
church history— Reads Saurin's Passion Sermons — Concludes to re- 
main and prepare himself for teaching 3 31 



X CONTENTS. 

LETTE R V I. 

Points out the defects of his education — Exculpates himself for them 
in part — Warns young- students against them — iMeans by which he 
provided for their remedy — Fine description of eloquence, &c. 3 - 36 

LETTER VII. 

Prepares for teaching — Lectures— Becomes Professor Extraordinary 
of Philosophy, Professor Ordinary ot Theology, and Provost of the 
Castle Church — Passes through a painful struggle with doubts — Pre- 
served from skepticism by respect for the Bible and for morality — 
The effect of all this on his ministerial education 3 - - - - 45 

LETTER VIII. 

Becomes a Pastor — Ministerial habits — Complains of bis memory — 
No imitator — Wrote very methodically — His first sermons quite de- 
fective — Ought to have read and studied ihe best masters 3 - - 52 

LETTER IX. 

Chooses to speak of his creed — Began preaching in times of great re- 
h'gious controversy — was censured by some, apologized for, by 
others, for adhering to Orthodoxy — Very much pained by the latter 
— How he arrived at his religious views — Early saw the necessity of 
adhering entirely to reason, or entirely lo revelation — Those follow- 
ing" a niiddle course, invoked in uncertainty— Knew not what they 
were about— Felt himself obliged to adhere entirely to revelation- 
Welcomes truth however from all quarters — A belief in revelation 
favorable to reason and efllect— The grand cause of his adherence 
to the Gospel, his need of a Saviour— Solemn conclusion 3 - - 59 

LE TTER X. 

His mode of proceeding in the invention and choice of themes— Need 
ofphilosophy, &c.— Of variety— Common-place^book of subjects- 
Mode of examining historical texts — Must throw ourselves back 
into the age—Kinds of knowledge requisiie— Illustrations— Aids- 
Didactic texts— Different kinds of them— Mode of treatment— Illus- 
trations— Must conceive ourselves in the circumstances in which 
these texts were written 3 ^ - - - ^ " - - 72 

LETTER XI. 

Many object to the logical arrangement of sermons — Answered-r,- 
The arrangement should not be concealed — Points out faulty ar- 
rangements in his sermons— Warns young preachers against too 
great attention to arrangement^A gainst uniformity of arrangement 3 - 8S 



CONTENTS. \ Xi 

LETTER XII. 

Speaks of the composition of his Sermons — Their defects — Not adapt- 
ed to country con^eg-ations — Examples — Difference of ancient and 
modem eloquence — Has used some figures of speech too often — 
Failed of easy transitions — Of a correct use of pronouns — Criticisms 
— Of publishing- a selection of his Sermons 5 - - - - 95 



PART II. 



I. Last Sickness and Death 5 - - , 105 

II. His youth and education 5 - - - 113 

in. At Wittemberg 5 as a teacher 5 his mode of holding exercises with 

the students, and habits of life 3 117 

IV. At Dresden ; as a preacher, examiner of candidates for the sacred 

ministry, as an author, and superintendent of schools 5 - 130 

V. General character, habits of life and domestic qualities, with notices 

of his wives, and concluding remarks 3 . ■ - - 148 



ERRATA. 

Page 34th, 30th line, dele 5 from preparations. 
Page 67th, last line, dele every^ 
Page 131st, 13th line for doj read no. 
Page 149, 19th line, dele upon. 



CONFESSIONS, &c 



PART I. 



LETTER I . 

Apology for these letters — Object of them — Reasons which induced the author 
to publish so many sermons. 

My Dear Friend — 

You in reality, then, take no offence at the number of 
my printed sermons, amounting as they do, to about thirty 
volumes. On the other hand, you wish to know by what 
means I have been enabled to produce so many worth 
perusal, and for this purpose, request me to give you a 
minute account of the education I received, preparatory 
to becoming a minister of the Gospel. I will comply with 
your request, but in such a manner, that what I impart to 
you, may also be given to the public. Indeed, you do 
not wish to confine my confessions, in this respect, to your- 
self. You naturally expect to find many things in what I 
say to you, which will be useful to those just entering up- 
on the ministry, serve to guard them against various er- 
rors, and be of advantage to them in many ways. I will 
not deny that this may be the case. It is impossible for 
me to make such disclosures as you expect from me, with- 
out taking notice of the great defects of my homiletical ed- 
ucation, and acknowledging the errors into which I have 
fallen ; — without honestly telling you what there is in my 
sermons deserving of censure, and why I have not been 
able to approximate nearer to the perfect pattern of a ser- 
;non which lies in my mind. If I do so, from the account, 
2 



14 LETTER I. 

young preachers will, of course, be able to draw much 
valuable instruction. At least, it will not be my fault, if 
those who take my sermons for patterns, imitate the very 
things which they ought to avoid. 

But, while I readily admit that the information you de- 
sire of me, may be of general use, I must confess it is not 
without struggles that I have brought myself to comply 
with your wishes. It is difficult, nay, almost impossible, 
to say much of one's self, especially before the world, 
without exciting a suspicion in the minds of people, that 
one thinks himself of great importance, and imagines him- 
self and his little affairs worth the nodce of the public. 
You know me too well not to pronounce me entirely free 
from every thing of the kind ; but will others, less ac- 
quainted with me, do the same ? Will not the whole thing 
appear to be ihe result of vanity and arrogance, and high- 
ly deserving reprehension ? 

You do not require me, however, to do what so many 
excellent men have done respecting themselves in a man- 
ner which met with the approbation of almost every read- 
er, — to give a minute account of my whole life. In my 
confessions to you, therefore, I shall touch upon those cir- 
cumstances merely, which may have exerted an influence 
upon my education as a minister of the Gospel. Every 
thing that does not properly belong to this subject, every 
thing that is disconnected with the business and science of 
preaching, or at most, seems calculated to excite a suspi- 
cion of my aiming at vain glory, I shall pass over in silence. 
You must be satisfied then, if, in the series of letters I 
write to you, you receive an account of the manner in 
which I became a preacher, and an impartial criticism of 
my own sermons. '^ Geratur," in the words of a man 
with whom I know not that I am worthy of any other com- 
parison, let me say, '' Geratur tibi mos, quoniam me non 
ingenii prsedicatorem esse vis, sed laboris mei."^ 

You must expect nothing more from me to-day, than 
an account of the circumstances which induced me to pub- 
lish so many volumes of sermons. Strictly speaking, it 
was never my intention to print any of my sermons ; much 

* Cicero in Bnito, c. 65^ $ 233. 



LETTER I. 15 

less could I ever have thought of printing a whole library of 
them. 1 had preached as provost of the university church 
at Wittemberg for two years, when, in 1786, I permitted 
a collection of my sermons to be published. As I was 
then obliged to apply all my powers to other matters, I 
should never have done so, had it not been for the earnest 
importunities of my friends. Of the numerous sermons, 
however, which I then had by me, I published only six- 
teen in this collection, supposing that with these I should 
satisfy the desires of my friends, without being obliged to 
deviate altogether from my resolution, not to trouble the 
public whh many sermons.^ 

Indeed, with the exception of the two which I delivered 
on being transferred from one station to another, the pro- 
fits of which were to be applied to the establishment of a 
young ladies' school at Wittemberg, I printed but a single 
sermon during the six following years, though I preached 
in the mean time with unremitting diligence, at the above- 
named place, and had begun to do so with still greater 
zeal at Dresden. With none of the numerous requests 
which I received, to publish many sermons, did I comply; 
and it was not until 1793, when a new edition of my first 
volume was called for, that 1 added a second, which, like 
the first, comprised but sixteen sermons ; which I thought 
would satisfy people, and be the last. 

Soon afterwards, or in the year 1795, a proposal was 
made in the Imperial Advertiser,! and sustained by vari- 
ous reasons, that I should publish all the sermons I had 
delivered. To this proposal, however, ignorant as I was 
from what quarter it came, I should have paid little or no 
attention, and by it, hardly have been induced to change 
my original purpose, in regard to printing but a few ser- 
mons, if a circumstance had not occurred which almost 
obliged me to do so. My sermons were taken down as 
they were delivered. This was done by ignorant per- 
sons, who acquired their living by means of the sermons 
which they sent into the city and province. It is easy 
to imagine what a form my sermons in this way received. 

* See the preface to the first edition of these sermons. 
t The Reichsanzeiger. 



16 LETTER I. 

I cannot deny that when some of these transcribed ser- 
mons first fell into my hands, I was exceedingly vexed. 
You may believe me, my dear friend, or not, but I could 
hardly recognize myself in them. I was astonished at the 
nonsense which was put into my mouth ; and yet it was 
not in my power to prevent these transcripts from being 
taken, as the goodnaturedness of the readers made it too 
profitable a business for the transcribers to relinquish it. 
I was obliged, therefore, to choose between two evils, and 
either see my sermons brought into general circulation in a 
very garbled and corrupted state, or publish them myself, 
as they were originally delivered. As I had been request- 
ed to do the latter, and it appeared to be the only means 
left me for avoiding a thousand errors, so it appeared to 
me of the two evils to be the least ; and hence, agreeably 
to the advice of my friends, I made choice of it."^ 

As soon as one collection of the sermons which I had 
delivered in 1795, made its appearance, I received urgent 
requests, not only in the Imperial Advertiser, but from va- 
rious quarters, to continue printing them ; and as the prin- 
cipal reason which induced me to publish the first, existed 
in regard to the others, so I was induced, rather than see 
ray sermons circulating in a garbled and corrupted state, 
to accede to the importance of these requests. In the 
mean time, people continued to receive them with unantic- 
ipated favor, and from various quarters, I derived very 
positive evidence of their having been productive of good. 
Notice was taken of them even in foreign countries, and 
many of them were translated into other languages ; and 
though I was more than once resolved to stop printing 
them, yet, partly out of compliance with public requests, 
and partly out of compliance with the wishes of friends 
made known to me in private letters, I was induced to de- 
viate from my resolution ; so that I have now printed all 
the sermons which I preached for a series of fifteen years, 
which constitute the number of volumes extant. 

But enough for once. As soon as I get time for the 
purpose, my dear friend, I will come to what you particu- 
larly wish to know, — the character and course of my 
homiletical education. Farewell. 

* See the preface to the first edition of the Sermons of 1795, 



LETTER 11. 17 



LETTER II. 

Early education — Inslrucled by his father — Becomes attached to well-arranged 
sermons — Learns the ancient languages — Fond of poetry, but destitute of 
good poets — Gets hold of Haller. 

My Dear Friend — 

If you wish to know all the circumstances which exert- 
ed a decided influence upon my education for the minis- 
try, you must accompany me far back into the years of 
my childhood. This is the only way in which I shall be 
able to give you a radical and historical account of my 
sermons, — to show you how they assumed the form they 
possess. 

For the whole of my early education, I am indebted to 
my father, who was my teacher until my sixteenth year. 
John Stephen Matthias Reinhard,* a man whose name 
would always have been sacred to me, even if he had not 
been my father, was a minister at Vohenstrauss, a market 
town in the dukedom of Sulzbach. He was unanimously 
looked upon by all, as one of the best preachers in that 
region. He could not indeed rise entirely above the faults 
of his age. Agreeably to the custom then prevalent, he 
made choice of a particular method, and selected a gen- 
eral theme, upon which he treated in all its relations and 
extent, until another year commenced. His thorough ed- 
ucation, however, deep know^ledge of human nature, great 
experience, and vivacious delivery, introduced so many 
changes into his method, rendered his discourses so attrac- 
tive, connected them so intimately and firmly together, and 
made them such a well arranged whole, that he was not 
only heard with uniform attention by his church, but list- 
ened to with pleasure by strangers ; it being usual for many 
on their way to or from Prague, so to order their affairs 
as to stop on the Sabbath morning and hear him preach. 
Among the peculiar qualities for which his sermons were 

* My father wrote his name Reinhart, but for reasonS; a part of which he 
himself suggested. I thought it best to exchange the t for a d, 

*2 



18 LETTER II. 

distinguished, may be named a strict and minute arrange- 
ment of every thing they contained. That this arrange- 
ment was perfectly natural, and obvious at first glance, you 
may infer from the fact, that, when a lad from ten to elev- 
en years of a^e, I could remember it, and write it down 
upon paper on my return home. I did so, and, as I found 
the exercise pleased my father, for he usually examined 
what I had written, and corrected it whenever he found it 
wrong, I regularly continued this practice every Sabbath, 
until I had acquired such skill in this respect, that not a 
single topic escaped me. 

The result was, as you may infer, that I early formed 
the conception , of a sermon strictly arranged, and so dis- 
posed in regard to all its main parts, as easily to be retain- 
ed in the memory, — a conception, accompanied wuth all 
the allurements of a paternal example, and so firmly fast- 
ened in my soul, as never again to be extirpated. From 
this time onward, every sermon was entirely lost to me, 
which either had no plan, or one which I was unable to 
comprehend ; and this is the reason why most of the ser- 
mons which I afterwards heard in various places, present- 
ed me with no attractions. 

Not less important or rich in results, was the instruction 
which I received from my father in the ancient languages. 
He was an excellent philologist, and read the ancients with 
feeling and a correct and lively apprehension of their sen- 
timent. He did not seek at first to impart this feeling and 
such an apprehension, to me. On the other hand, when 
we commenced reading an ancient work together, his 
principal object was to increase my knowledge of the lan- 
guage, by entering into a philological explanation of ev- 
ery thing it contained. The other part of the task was left 
for another time. During the day he was engaged in the 
laborious duties of his office, but the evenings, after sup- 
per, he spent at home, taking enjoyment and repose in the 
bosom of his family. As on these occasions, he early dis- 
covered in me a susceptibility for conversation upon sub- 
jects of general utility and a serious character, so he be- 
gan to devote the time which he spent with his children 
from eight o'clock in the evening to ten, almost exclusive- 
ly to me, conversing with me upon such subjects as were 



LETTER II. 19 

adapted to my age and attainments. It Was on these oc- 
casions that that love was awakened in me for the study 
of the ancients which increased with after years, and re- 
mains with me still. It was his custom to converse with 
me upon some passage of an ancient work, especially in 
the Latin, (the Greek I was then unable to read.) These 
passages were generally selected from Virgil and Cicero, 
the two classics which he admired the most, and which we 
had begun to read together. In these exercises, nothing 
was said respecting philology. Our sole object was to 
discover in what the beauty, ingeniousness, greatness, and 
sublimity of the passage consisted ; and these were devel- 
oped by him with a fire which entered into my heart and 
early convinced me, that the ancients were the genuine 
masters of poetry and eloquence, and that we must learn 
of them and take them for models. 

In the mean time, however, as regards my native lan- 
guage, I was quite deserted. As early as my ninth year 
indeed, I felt an inclination for poetry, which might have 
been strengthened, had there been any thing to strengthen 
it. Scarcely had I been able to read a single German 
poet widi feeling, when my father lost his library, which 
was a valuable one for that time and place, in a disastrous 
fire, not a single leaf of it being saved. I, who had begun 
to hanker more and more after the German poets, was 
now confined to the Sulzbach Hymn Book, at this time a 
very miserable one, Canitz's poems, and Brookes'^ me- 
trical translation of Pope's Essay on Man. Accordingly, 
I read these books again and again, imitated the poetry, 
and tried to do for myself all I could. I had an obscure 
feeling, indeed, that they were far from being perfect. In 
short, I could never avoid thinking there was something 
far above them in point of excellence, and this, because 
my father had already pointed out to me something supe- 
rior to them, among the ancients. Two years elapsed, 
however, before I was able to light upon any thing better 
in our own language ; v/ith reference to which it should 
be recollected, that the state of our literature had but just 
begun to improve, and that the Upper Palatinate was al- 

* [For a notice of Canitz and Brockes. see Memoirs of Goethe; N. Y. 1824, 
p. 302, and p, 306.] 



20 LETTER II. 

most entirely destitute of every thing which the authors of 
this improvement had already produced. 

But now, my friend, 1 come to an event, whichj though 
small in itself, was, in respect to my education, highly im- 
portant, and rich in results. I had reached my thirteenth 
year, when my eldest sister was married to a young cler- 
gyman by the name of Schatzler. While on a visit to my 
father's, he discovered my inclination for poetry, and my 
lamentable destitution of good writers in this department, 
and presented me with the poems of Haller. It is in vain 
for me to attempt to express to you the joy and transport 
with which I read and devoured this poet. All at once 
the problem which had vexed me was solved. I now 
supposed myself to have found what I had sought for in 
my Brookes and Cnnitz, in vain. It was not long before I 
knew my Haller by heart. Of course, I imitated him ; 
and, as every thing that I found in my admired pattern, 
struck me as beautiful, I was pleased with his provincial- 
isms among the rest ; as even then I was ^ able to discover 
them. Indeed, I employed them in my own verses, and, 
in the midst of the Upper Palatinate, wrote as though I 
was a native of Berne. "^ 

What however was this small error, in comparison with 
the immense advantage which I derived from Haller? 
His train of thought was rich and full of meaning, and 
every word of him took possession of my soul. I passed 
by nothing without the most careful examination, and 
dwelt with indescribable pleasure upon every line, always 
expecting to discover something more in it : and the nu- 
merous passages which I did not and could not under- 
stand, only served to exalt my reverence for the poet. 
They appeared to me to be divine expressions surrounded 
with a sacred obscurity, the meaning of which I thought 
would probably be unveiled to me at some future period. 
From this time onward, I became disgusted with every 
thing like prolixity, exuberance of language and tau- 
tology. How much soever pleasure other youths could 

* [For notices of Haller, see Memoirs of Goethe, p. 325 5 Rees^ Cyclopoe- 
diaj and Pinacotheca Scriptorum Nostra JEtate Literis lllustriam, etc., Aug- 
ustas Vindelicorum, 1741, in Decad. IV. where a likeness of him is also to be 
found. He was a native of Berne, noted for his pi'ecocity, distinguished as a 
poet, and one of the most thorough and extensive scholars of his age.] 



LETTER III, 



21 



find in a certain fulness and luxuriancy of expression, and 
a play with brilliant images and well sounding phrases, in 
them I could find none. Haller made me so choice of 
ray expressions, I may say, reduced me to such poverty 
in this respect, that, when there was no new thought to be 
uttered either different from the preceding or designed 
to render it more definite, I absolutely had not another 
word to say. When therefore, 1 reflect upon the influence 
exerted upon me by the poems of Haller, I am convinc- 
ed, that my style derived its peculiarities particularly from 
them. That they made it too dry I am willing to admit. 
Haller naturally exerted a greater influence upon my rea- 
son than my imagination, and perhaps curbed the latter, far 
too much. About this time, I heard various strangers 
passing through the place, speak with great enthusiasm 
of Klopstock's Messiah, and praise various other German 
poets, particularly Hagedorn and Gellert ;* but, living as 
I then was in a dark and wretched corner of Germany, 
for me to obtain any of these writers was a thing impossi- 
ble. Consequently, Haller remained my all, until the 
death of ray father entirely changed my future destina- 
tion. Of this however another time. Farewell. 



LETTER III. 

Father dies — Goes to Regensburg- — Gets hold of other poets — Notice of his 
instructors — Account of his studies — Admires Cicero — Reads French and 
Italian works — Makes verses. 

My Dear Friend — 

Under the guidance of my father, I had made consid- 
erable progress in the Latin language, and could express 

* [For notices of Hagedorn and Gellert, as well as Klopstock, see the work 
already referred to. Memoirs of Goethe, pp. 313, 324, and 335.] 



22 LETTER III. 

myself in it with some ease and correctness. In the 
Greek and in other things belonging to a preparation for 
an academical course of studies, I was quite deficient. 
This affected my father very deeply, and, as he had no 
more time to spare from the laborious duties of his office 
than he had hitherto devoted to me, which was always far 
too little, and he also readily acknowledged the superior- 
ity of a public education to a private one, he resolved to 
send me to the very same school where he had received 
his education, and of which he never spoke but in grate- 
ful terms, — to the Gymnasium poeiicum at Regensburg. 
In so doing, he was certainly influenced by an obscure 
presentiment that he had not much longer to live ; for 
he had been sick more or less for a year previous, 
and knew his condition too well not to feel that death 
was at hand. With all his zeal therefore, he immediately 
set about procuring a place for me at Regensburg. Only 
a few days before his exit, he was informed by letters, of 
the success of his efforts. Never shall 1 forget the inde- 
scribably serious look, modified indeed by a most heart- 
felt tenderness, with which he gave me the information, 
and fixed his eyes upon me for a long time in silence, 
prying as it were into my very heart, and uttering more 
than words could express. I was confounded, and finally 
stammered out the assurance, that 1 would do my utmost 
to equal his expectations. What expectations he had 
formed of me I knew full well. He did not conceal 
from me the fact, that he loved me in particular, and 
thought, as he used often to express himself, he could 
make something out of me. He received my assurance 
with looks of satisfaction and happiness, dismissed me 
without saying another word, and a few days afterwards 
was laid upon the bier. 

Accordingly, in the autumn of 1768, being in my 16th 
year, I set out for Regensburg. My mother, who died of 
grief at the loss of my father, had furnished me with a few 
guilders, her six months' privilege as a clergyman's widow, 
not having then expired. These I w^as carefully to hus- 
band in order to a supply .of my most pressing necessities, 
for a long time to come. But scarcely had I taken up 
my abode in Regensburg, before 1 disposed of almost 



LETTER III. 23 

all this money at a bookseller's shop for some German 
poets, particularly Klopstock's Messiah, of which only 
the ten first books were then published. The last attract- 
ed me with an irresistible power which operated equally 
strong upon my imagination and my heart. In it, I discov- 
ered the German language in a richness, strength, and, I 
may say, magnificence, of which I had previously had no 
conception. In regard to sentiment, sublimity, and train 
of thought, what a resemblance there w^as between Klop- 
stock, and my Haller, and how welcome therefore must 
the former have been to one, whose feelings had been ex- 
cited and moulded by the latter ! Hence, 1 read my 
Messiah so often, and with such interest, that in a short 
time I knew it by heart as well as I did my Haller. I 
was not led astray by him, however, like many of my 
young friends, into a love of pompous phrases and poetical 
nonsense. From such an error 1 had been carefully se- 
cured by Haller, and still more so by the study of the an- 
cients, to which I now applied myself with all diligence. 

And here with renewed gratitude I must make men- 
tion of a teacher. He is not honored indeed with a great 
name among the learned, nor has he written much ; but yet 
he was thoroughly acquainted with philology, possessed 
of rare skill as a teacher, and a benevolence towards his 
pupils which gained for him every heart. I refer to 
Frederic Augustus Topfer, who was then conrector of 
the Gymnasium, into whose class 1 was put, after having 
been examined by George Henry Martini, the rector. To 
this man I am particularly indebted for the influence which 
ihe reading of the ancients exerted upon my education, 
and entire mode of thinking, and the benefit they proved 
to me in regard to facility of expression. He was inti- 
mately acquainted with all the niceties of the Latin lan- 
guage, and labored to teach his scholars how to express 
themselves in it not only with correctness, but even with 
elegance. Having corrected the first exercise that I wrote 
in the class, he told me in a friendly way, that he saw I 
had some skill, but that 1 had not yet got my Latin stays 
on, and therefore must in future attend more implicitly to 
his instructions. His method, when he made us translate 
out of the German language into the Latin, was to select 



24 LETTER III. 

for us the most excellent Latin phrases. These were the 
pure idioms of the language, which, being chosen with the 
greatest care furnished him with an occasion to make us 
thoroughly acquainted with its genius ; at the same lime, 
he always carried us back to fundamental principles, and 
the reasons why a thing should be so and not otherwise, 
and in this way, not only accustomed us to gram- 
matical correctness in both languages, but to a critical 
mode of thinking upon matters of this kind. This he ac- 
complished to a still greater degree, when we read and 
translated the ancients ; for in this case, he was careful to 
see, that the author translated was rendered as well as 
possible, and with taste. To show us how this was to be 
done, he put into our hands, not translations of the Latin 
and Greek authors, (for then we had none worthy of im- 
itation,) but those German writers who had imitated the 
ancients with the greatest success. To these he drew our 
attention, while he endeavored to show us what use we were 
to make of translating from the ancients. Accordingly, it 
was he who for this purpose, first put Wieland's writings 
into my hands, so far as they were then published, and 
Ramler's Odes ; and happy was the result of this course 
and highly satisfactory the use we made of his instructions, 
in this respect, whenever we translated from the ancient 
Greek and Roman authors. For those of his scholars 
who obtained his particular confidence, (and I was soon 
so happy as to be of this number,) there was in general 
free access to his library, which was quite extensive, well 
selected, and contained the best ancient and modern wri- 
ters for philological purposes. Here we were not only 
furnished with an opportunity to collect together many 
items of information, but also enabled to obtain what was 
most adapted to our wants. 

The happy relation in which I stood to Topfer, the 
co7irecior, lasted for the two years that I spent in the class 
of the rector. This was effected in part by Topfer's being 
obliged to give weekly lessons to this class, so that he con- 
tinued to be its teacher even after it had ceased to be his ; 
and in part, by the habit he was in of keeping up his con- 
nexion with those pupils whom he had once permitted to 
have free access to him, even though they were no longer 



LETTER III. 25 

under his immediate control ; and he who had once formed 
such a connexion, found it too advantageous and honorable, 
to be neglected, or dissolved by means of unworthy conduct. 

The rector Martini, though doubtless possessed of 
greater and more extensive learning, was far less capable 
than Topfer, of rendering himself useful as an instructor. 
He did not possess Topfer's philological knowledge. Un- 
der him, however, we continued the diligent and careful 
reading of the Greek and Roman classics, and, as he at- 
tended to the more difficult writers, from him we in fact 
derived much valuable assistance. 

Thus I lived and employed myself for four years and a 
half, for this was the length of time that I remained in the 
Gymnasium at Regensburg, strictly speaking, among the 
ancient Greeks and Romans. At the public recitations, 
indeed, as there always were many dull scholars among us, 
only a little of each author was explained. To accom- 
modate these, we were confined almost to one place. 
Those who felt inclined to, however, read much more out 
of the school. While I was connected with the rector's 
class, we scarcely ended the fifth book of the Iliad. In 
the mean time, I had already read my Homer through 
more than once, at home. That the same was true with 
regard to Xenophon, Cicero, Livy, Horace, Virgil, Ovid, 
Curtius, Terence and Pliny the younger, all of which 
were attended to in our public recitations, needs not be 
said. At home also we had writers at hand, who were not 
meddled with at school. I be^an therefore to form an 
acquaintance with Hesiod, the Greek tragedians, with Is- 
ocrates, Demosthenes and Plutarch, among the Greeks ; 
and with Suetonius, Tacitus, Juvenal, the Scripfores Histo- 
riae Aiigiistae., and Seneca ; and at least, to collect literary 
notices of the other writers of antiquity. 

Here I must observe that my favorite author about this 
time, was Cicero, whom I continued to look upon as une- 
qualled in regard to rhetorical diction, until I became ac- 
quainted with Demosthenes. Of course, I made great 
efforts lO imitate his style in Latin, and as in addition there- 
to I had obtained possession of John Augustus Ernesti's 
edition of the ancients, (his InitiaDoctrinae Solidioris, had 
3 



26 



LETTER III. 



then been introduced as a text-book,"^) and his Opuscula, 
so by the exannple of this successful Ciceronian, I became 
farther confirmed in the opinion, that he who would ac- 
quire a good style, must adhere to Cicero in particular, as 
a guide. Hence, it was not easy for me to let a single 
day pass without reading something of Cicero's. At the 
same lime, I had commenced the study of the French and 
the Italian languages; and it was not long before I could 
read the best authors especially in the former, in connex- 
ion with the ancients. Accordingly, with great zeal, I 
took hold of Fenelon's Telemaque, Racine's and Cor- 
neille's Tragedies, Moliere's Comedies, Boileau's Satires, 
and Bossuet's Introduction to Universal History ; nor did I 
ever grow weary of comparing together those authors 
known to me who had treated of the same events, or ever 
come away from it, without having observed much and 
learned many useful things. That under such circum- 
stances, my inclination for poetry should increase, was a 
matter of course. Not only did I improve every occasion 
which was presented us for making Latin and German 
verses as a class, but I made many of my own accord ; 
and, as my acquaintance with the majority of our German 
poets increased, acquired facility in this species of writing, 
until I became quite skilful. In all cases, I gained in 
readiness at expressing myself in my native language, and 
this was the greatest advantage I derived from these ex- 
ercises. Nature had not destined me for a poet, and as 
such, I should never have produced any thing excellent* 

* [This work comprises an excellent course of literature.] 



LETTER IV. 



27 



LETTER IV. 

Answers the questions, why he did not read sermons for personal edification, 
or ministerial improvement— Remains at Regensburg as auditor— Connexion 
with Prof. Grimm— Acquires a deep relish for the Crusian philosophy. 

My Dear Friend — 

" And did you then," you ask me, in your last, "did 
you live all the time you passed at school, among the hea- 
then ? Did you attend to nothing that had a more imme- 
diate reference to the business of |)reaching, to which you 
had devoted yourself? Did you not occr.sionally hearer 
read a sermon for your own edification ?" Permit me to 
answer these questions of yours in detail. 

During my residence at Regensburg, I heard a multi- 
tude of sermons. The laws of the school required us to 
go to church twice every Sabbath and festival, and twice 
on week days. One sermon, therefore, on the Sabbath, 
and two on week days, were the least that fell to our share. 
Here I found sufficient nourishment for those religious 
feelings which had early been excited, and by the wisest 
means, carefully cherished in me by my father; and 
though attendance upon divine worship was of but little 
benefit to my ministerial education, it did not fail to prove 
a blessing to my heart. 

As regards my own personal edification, I cannot recol- 
lect a period in my life in which I altogether neglected it. 
It was a matter of necessity for me to collect my thoughts 
together, and reflect upon my moral condition ; but I 
frankly confess to you, that I never resorted to sermons for 
aid ia such meditations, and tiiat dtjring my residence at 
Regensburg, I never read any, — not a single one. In 
neii;lecting to do so, I may have commitied a great error, 
which I shall not undertake to deny ; but listen to me and 
hear what it was that induced me to act as I did. 

It is impossible for any one to be accustomed at an 
earlier age, to look upon the Bible as the book of all books, 



28 



LETTER IV. 



than I was. I commenced learning to read with the Pro- 
verbs of Solomon, which were printed with distinct sylla- 
bles (or the sake of children ; and scarcely had 1 attained 
to any degree of skill in reading, when my father, to whom 
the Scriptures were every thing in matters of religion, pre- 
sented me with a Bible. Hence, when a child of five 
years of age. I began to read the Bible. I read it in 
course as 1 found it, from the beginning to the end, and 
did it more than once ; never suffering a single day to pass, 
without having completed my task in this respect. This 
was indeed a childish notion. I felt so, and therefore 
never told my father of it, but read my Bible in silence, 
and altogether for myself. In the mean time, however, 
I derived increasing delight from reading it; embraced 
every opportunity which presented, to ask my father ques- 
tions respecting it ; and, as I advanced, made many use- 
ful reflections of my own, until I gradually acquired the 
habit of using it for purposes of personal edification, with- 
out calling any thing farther to my aid, than a spiritual song. 
This habit I carried with me to Regensburg. As I was 
always able, while there, to read the New Testament in 
the original, reading the Bible presented me with new at- 
tractions. 1 ran to my Bible, therefore, whenever 1 wish- 
ed for instruction, animation, or comfort ; and as I found 
every thing in it that I wanted, in great abundance, I never 
once thought of seeking after other means of edification. 

" Still, it would have exerted a happy influence," as you 
think, " upon m.y education as a minister of the Gospel, if 
I had occasionally read a masterly sermon." I will not 
deny it. The sermons of Mosheim, Jerusalem, Cramer, 
Sack, and others, not to mention many in foreign lan- 
guages, were not only worthy of being read, but studied. 

1 must tell you, however, my dear friend, that when art 
Regensburg, I had not definitely resolved upon becotuing 
a minister of the Gospel, and was very uncertain what 
course 1 should pursue. From my very youth, indeed, I 
had felt a strong inclination for the sacred office, and, if I 
may so express myself, a kind of internal call to preach ; 
and hence, could never hear any thing said respecting my 
choosins: another mode of life, without experiencing a 
strong internal opposition wliich I was unable entirely to 



LETTER IV. 29 

suppress. So weak however was my body, and so criti- 
cal my health, that many, and a lady in particular, for 
whom, as she ahvays took care of me with maternal ten- 
derness, I had the greatest respect, told me that I was not 
raade for a preacher, and should never have strength 
enough to sustain ihe labors of the sacred ministry; and 
that self-preservation required me to direct my attention to 
some other pursuit. Indeed, I was twice brought to the 
very borders of the grave by a burning fever, from which 
it was a long lime before I recovered. This confirmed 
iT)y patrons and friends in the opinion they had formed, 
and made them think it best for me to devote all my .time 
to such studies as would be of use to me upon whatever 
course of life I should in future determine. Under such 
circumstances, my friend, it was natural, that I should lose 
sight of every thing that related immediately and especial- 
ly to the business of preaching. That by reading the 
choicest writers of antiquity, however, which then so en- 
tirely engrossed my mind, I was taking the best step for 
obtaining a ministerial education, Wcis something of which 
I did not conceive. It was afterwards, I first learned, that 
I had employed my lime to the greatest advantage without 
knowing it. 

There is another circumstance, however, which I must 
mention, as it had an immediate bearing upon my educa- 
tion as a minister of the Gospel. With the six classes of 
the Gymnasium at Regensburg, there was connected a di- 
vision called the auditory, which any one entered who 
had completed the time prescribed bj law for the six 
classes, and fitted himself for the university. To these 
auditors, as they were called, lectures were delivered by 
the regular professors at the Gymnasium, upon theology, 
philosophy, philology, and other sciences, the object of 
which was to initiate the hearers into the lujiversity course, 
and prepare them for making a profitrible use of its exer- 
cises. Strangers were at liberty to enter upon their aca- 
demical career immediately fiom the upper class, or to 
attend in the first place to the lectures of the auditory. I 
•chose the latter because I should otherwise have been 
obliged to go away at Michaelmass, at which time no reg- 
ular course commenced at the university, and the most 
*3 



30 LETTER IV. 

important lectures had been continued for at least halt a 
year. In order, therefore, not to lose the advantages of a 
university course begun in season, I spent the winter 
half of the year, from 1772 to 1773, still at Regensburg, 
as auditor. 

Here, then, I also heard John Ludewig Grimm, the 
professor of theology, and at the same time a preacher, 
and as such, heard with great approbation. He soon 
conceived a great con6dence in me, and gave me a com- 
mission for which I w^as but poorly prepared. He was 
obliged by the duties of his office, to preach during the 
week in St. Oswald's church. The sermons which he 
delivered there, were a kind of homilies composed of ex- 
planations of Genesis. As he was much pressed with 
business, he could not write these productions out in full, 
for vvant of time, though he was very anxious to do so. 
He requested me therefore to take his rough draughts, 
write them out for him, reducing them to the proper form, 
and then return them to him. Mv first efforts in this bus- 
iness were so successful, that the aiuhor recognized him- 
self in what I gave to him, and requested me to continue 
my labor. Accordingly T worked out for him quite a series 
of these week-day sermons, in the manner just described; 
and as I increased my endeavors to render them agreea- 
ble and retain those expressions of the author which were 
the mostvvorthy of the pulpit, this exercise probably ex- 
erted considerable influence in the formation of ray style, 
I have only to add, that Grimm was a zealous pupil and 
follower of the theologian Crusius,^ under whom he had 
studied in Leipsic, and respecting whose Plan of the King^ 
dom of Godf he delivered his lectures in Regensburg. 
You will not think it strange, therefore, my dear friend, 
when I tell you, that I went to Saxony filled with a deep 

* [For a notice of Crusius, or Krans, as it is written in the German, see Me- 
moirs of Goethe, &c. p. 309 j also, Germ. Conv. Lex. He formed the bold 
plan of reducing philosophy to a perfectly consistent and rational system, and 
combining it with orthodox theology, for which purpose he sought to destroy 
the system of Wolf, as being altogether inconsistent with his own. He was a 
deep and acute thinker, though now regarded as having been somewhat heavy. 
His philosophy at first produced considerable effect, but he outlived his influ- 
ence, and the numerous theological works he wrote, are in general forgotten. 
Id private life he was distinguished for integrity and rare piety.] 

t Vorstell. V. d. Plane Reichesgottes, Leips. 



LETTER V. 31 

reverence for this philosopher and theologian, and that his 
philosophical system was the first I became acquainted 
with and studied. But of the years I spent at the univer* 
sity^ another time. Farewell. 



LETTER V. 

Goes to Wiltemberg — Resolves to devote himself to the ministry — Applies 
closely to the most important studies, — Hears Schrockh on church history — 
Reads Saurin's Passion Sermons — Concludes to remain and prepare himself 
for teaching. 

My Dear Friend — 

By circumstances, the explanation of which does not 
properly belong to this place, it was rendered possible for 
me to go to an Electoral Saxon university, instead of 
going to Altdorf or Erlangen which were far nearer, and 
the usual resorting places for students of the Upper Pala- 
tinate. According to a plan devised for me by Mirus in 
Regensburg, the Electoral Saxon Secretary of Legation, 
one of my patrons, I was to study a year or two at Wit- 
temberg, when he hoped by means of the celebrated Cru- 
sius, his intimate friend, to contrive some way for me to go 
to Leipsic and complete my studies there 'under the eye 
of this philosopher. Here in the very outset, 1 must re- 
mark, that the reason of this plan's not being carried into 
execution, was the death of Crusius in the year 1775, 
united with the new connexions I had formed, which ren- 
dered it easy and advisable for me to continue my resi- 
dence at the .university in Wittemberg. 

When I went to Saxony, I was so poor, that I had no 
expectations of being able to slay at the university more 
than two years at the farthest. My little patrimony would 
certainly not hold out longer with all the frugality it was 



32 



LETTER V. 



possible for me to exercise ; and the fine prospects which 
had been ]ai<1 open before me by the honest and pious 
Mirus, of early obtaining a livelihood in Saxony, had too 
little security to authorize me to put confidence in them or 
regulate my plans accordino:ly. 

On my arrival at Wittemberg, therefore, I had resolved 
upon two things : First, 1 intended, as 'soon as possible, to 
make a trial at preaching in order to see whether my 
breast and body would permit me to study theology, or 
whether J sliould be obliged to select some other [)rofes- 
sion. If the former should be the case, 1 was resolved in 
the second place, to pay no farther attention to preacliing 
while at the university, but during ihe short space of time 
allotted to me for the purpose, to hear as many lectures 
as possible, and make myself acquainted with ii)e indis- 
pensable sciences. It was very important for me to do so, 
as, from a predilection for the Latin and Greek authors and 
a dread of Danz, who was usually followed by those who 
taught the Hebrew, I had so entirely neglected this lan- 
guage as to be under the riecessity of commencing it on 
my arrival at Wittemberg. 

What I had resolved upon, I most punctually perform- 
ed, I had passed but a few months at Wittemberg, and 
had begun to hear lectures upon the Hebrew language, 
upon philosophy, upon the New Testament, and upon doc- 
trinal theology ; when, on the sixth Sunday after the feast 
of Trinity, I delivered a sermon from the usual lesson of 
the day, in Dietrichsdorf, a small village connected with 
the parish in Wittemberg, but having a church of its own* 
The trial succeeded ; for though I designedly exerted my 
utmost efforts, I felt not the least inconvenience at the- 
close. The peasants also assured me that I had a clear 
voice and an excellent enunciation; and though I had 
never been in Dietrichsdorf before in my life, and was to- 
tally ignorant of every one in the place, yet the schoolmas- 
ter and the peasant, with whom, according to custom, I 
was obliged to dine, told me in the most perfect confidence 
at the close of divine service, that I had spoken some ex- 
cellent truths to this person and that, whom they named^ 
I have now lost all recollections of what I preached there*. 
From the foregoing fact, however, it would seem at leastj,,^ 



LETTER V. 33 

that my sermon contained some practical observations, and 
such as were suitable for common life. 

I now, my dear friend, immediately formed the resolu- 
tion of becoming a minister. The ease with which my 
first trial at preaching was sustained, the attention with 
which the little assembly had listened to me, and, permit 
me to add, the by no means inconsiderable marks of ap- 
probation I received, — all these confirmed me in the hope 
which I had long secretly cherished, that I should not la- 
bor in this department without success, at some future day. 

With far more particularity, however, was my second 
resolve carried into effect; — not to think any more at pre- 
sent upon writing sermons or preaching, but to apply myself 
to the sciences with which the preacher must be familiar, if 
he would do justice to his great calling. I now zealously 
attended, not merely to the acquisition of the Hebrew, but 
that of its kindred languages ; and it was very well for me 
that 1 found a teacher in the now deceased. Professor 
Dresde, who was well acquainted with the first principles 
of the oriental languages, and excellent at imparting in- 
struction. 

With still greater eagerness did I attend to philosophy, 
in which the deceased Dr. Schmid, nephew of Dr. Cru- 
sius, was my instructor. This man had great talent at 
awakening reflection by means of lively conceits and ex- 
cellent remarks, though he was not careful enough to give 
his discourses the requisite clearness and connexion. 
Hence, I found it necessary to read the philosophical writ- 
ings of Crusius for myself, and this, together with the oral 
explanations given by Schmid, enabled me at length, 
though not without great efforts, to obtain a tolerably cor- 
rect apprehension of the system of this acute and consis- 
tent thinker. !f, in addition to all this, I tell you, as was 
the case, that 1 attended exegetical lectures upon the Old 
and New Testaments and studied mathematics and doc- 
trinal theology ; that 1 carefully made myself familiar with 
all the lectures upon the sciences, and daily read my He- 
brew Bible in order to acquire all the skill requisite in that 
language ; ihat I took part in discussions upon theological 
and philosophical subjects, and finally, that I still sought 
to save many hours for reading the Greek and Latin : you 



34 LETTER V. 

will doubtless believe, that, for the first two years of my 
residence at Witiemberg, I had no lime to preach. 

By various circumstances indeed, it was now rendered 
possible for me to remain longer at VVittemberg than I had 
originally thought of doing ; but as an opportuni*y was 
presented me in my third year, of becoming more inti- 
mately acquainted with Professor Schrockh and hearing 
him privaiissime upon church history, I was induced ta 
embrace it; and of course, a new and wide field of study 
opened before me. My guide in it proved himself master 
of its knowledge, and pointed out to me its most interest- 
ing regions with such skill and captivating friendship as ta 
fill me with pleasure, so that I resolved to delay awhile in 
it, and devote the principal part of my time to him. It is 
true, that during this and ihe following, or my fourth year, 
I was occasionally obliged by the relation in which I stood, 
to deliver a sermon, but so rarely, that it proved no hin- 
drance to my other labors. Besides, I then had no op- 
portunity for attending to those sciences which are most 
intimately connected with the business of the preacher. 
During the whole course of my study, I did not hear a 
single Jecture upon theological ethics or pastoral theology, 
nor did I receive any instruction in homiletics, or hear a 
single lecture upon preaching. This is a subject of deep 
regret to me, but he who is well acquainted with the state 
of the university at Wittemberg from 1773 to 1776, knows 
that it was not altogether my fault. 

It was about this time, or during the third year of my 
course, that I indulged in a reading which certainly exert- 
ed some influence upon my preparations as a minister of 
the Gospel, and which therefore deserves to be taken no- 
tice of in this place. An accident brought into my hands 
the Passion Sermons of Saurin, as translated by Heyer. 
Saurin had been mentioned to me by my father as one of 
the inost excellent of preachers. In this case, therefore, 
I naturally found it a pleasure to make an exception to the 
custom which I had hitherto observed, of reading no ser- 
mons. I found them well planned, and accurately divid- 
ed into heads, divisions and subdivisions. This was as 
I supposed every sermon should be. In this respect, there- 
fore, I found them approximate nearer to the pattern of a 



LETTER V. 



35 



perfect sermon which lay in my mind, than any 1 had ever 
heard. The lively turns too, which Saurin gives his 
address, and the flowers with which he bestrews every 
thing, likewise produced their effects. Of course I was 
delighted with him ; and hence, 1 felt as though 1 ought 
to take him for a pattern ; and a sermon delivered this 
year from the customary lesson in the parish church at 
Wittemberg, on Mary's Visitation, and printed at the re- 
quest of many who heard it, exhibits evident marks of the 
attempts I made to imitate him. It is now as may easily 
be supposed, nearly unknown. It afforded a proof how- 
ever, as regards its dress, that Saurin was in my mind as a 
pattern, and that I was a zealous Crusian and had made 
myself thoroughly acquainted with {he Prophetical Theol- 
ogy of my master. 

In the mean time, the period drew near, in which as I 
supposed, I should be obliged to leave the university. 
Accordingly, towards Michaelmass, of the year 1777, I 
was intending to return home to my native country ; and 
shortly before that time, he who had hitherto been my 
guardian, and taken care of my little property, sent me 
the remainder of it for supplying the expenses of the 
journey. About this time, however, those teachers who 
knew me best, particularly Schmid, Dresde and Schrockh, 
gave me an earnest request to remain and apply to the 
business of academical instruction. I made objections, 
alleging that I knew not upon what I should live ; but they 
Vere removed by the prospects which were held out to me 
of receiving support from various quarters, as soon as I 
had qualified myself for the work. In short, I was over 
ruled by the authority of these men, and the inclination 
which had been awakened in me during the last half year 
of my residence at Wittemberg, for a university life ; and 
I immediately employed the money which had been sent to 
me for the expenses of my journey into the Upper Palat- 
inate, for the purpose of qualifying myself towards the 
end of another year, for entering upon a course in which 
nothing was to be expected but pain and trouble. In so 
doing, you will observe, my dear friend, that I entered a 
path which not only might at first, but which unavoidably 
did, lead me away from the business of preaching. In 

; 



36 LETTER VI. 

my next letter, however, before I speak of my academical 
career, you must expect from me some general remarks 
respecting the education which I had hitherto received, 
preparatory to becoming a minister of the Gospel. Fare- 
well. 



LETTER VI. 

Points out the defects of his education — Exculpates himself for them in pari 
— Warns young students against them — IMeans by which he provided for 
their remedy. 

My Dear Friend — 

You have the strongest reason to be astonished at the 
manner in which from my own account, it seems, I pursu- 
ed my theological studies ; directed as they were by no 
rational method, and full of frightful chasms. I absolute- 
ly inverted the order of things by attending to doctrinal 
theology in the first year, and putting off church history 
until the third. It was a very great defect that I attended 
no lectures upon ancient literature, universal history, or 
physics. It was a still greater defect, that I attended none 
upon homiletics, pastoral theology, or canon law. And, 
finally, it was altogether unpardonable in me, to neglect 
every thing like a lecture upon philosophical and theologi- 
cal ethics ; in doing which, I overlooked the most indis- 
pensable part of a preparation for the sacred office. 

The guilt of all these faults, however, does not rest en^ 
lirely upon me. When I entered the university, I sup- 
posed, as I lately informed you, that it would be impossi- 
ble for me to remain there longer than two years at the 
farthest. With all the lectures, therefore, which I wish- 
ed to hear, it would have been useless for me to think of 



LETTER VI. 37 

observing a method which would have required more time. 
I was obliged as it were to snatch at what came along and 
secure it upon the spot. To this it should be added, that 
the course of theological instruction at Wittemberg during 
the three first years of my residence there, w^as in reality 
very defective. I should certainly have attended to phi- 
losophical and theological ethics, if an opportunity had 
been presented me for hearing suitable lectures upon 
these sciences. It is true, that Schmid contemplated lec- 
turing upon both of them ; upon the former, according to 
Cruslus^ Directioics for living a rational life ;^ upon the 
latter, according to Rehkopf's Abstract of Crusius^ moral 
philosophy ;\ but neither was brought about. It was 
equally impossible for me to hear any thing of value upon 
homiletics and pastoral theology. The aged Hoffmann 
indeed, who was general superintendent, read a pastoral^ 
soon after my arrival at Wittemberg ; but I felt as if it 
would be highly inverting the order of things to listen to 
this lecture then; and besides, the old man was so weak, 
that he could not go on, and in the following year he died. 
I might have attended to canon law, but 1 did not, as 
there were things more necessary which I wished to learn. 
With homiletics I thought I should be able to dispense, as I 
had already studied rhetoric at school. Professor Titius 
began a course of lectures upon physics, which I attended 
as far as he went, but he was obliged to discontinue it for 
v^ant of a sufficient number of hearers. I committed a 
much greater error, however, in neglecting Schrockh's lec- 
tures upon universal history. I must confess, that I was at first 
filled with prejudice against the man; and when this was 
removed, it was too late. It is a source of satisfaction 
that 1 was able nevertheless to avail myself of the use of his 
lectures, upon church history. It is probable, however, 
that the want of lectures upon universal history, was far 
less injurious to me from the fact, that I began to read, I 
may almost say, to devour. Bossuet's work upon the history 
of the world according to Cramer's translation and with 
Cramer's additions, even while at Regensburg; the study of 
which I kept up at the university. 

* Anweisung vernttnftig zu leben. 
t Auszug aus Crusii Woraltheologie. 

4 



38 



LETTER VI. 



With all my heart, however, must I warn young stu- 
dents for the ministry to guard against the errors which I 
here confess, and earnestly beg them to attend to the ac- 
quisition of the theological sciences in as perfect and me- 
thodical a manner, as time and circumstances will admit. 
Had I pursued my studies with less irregularity and ob- 
tained a knowledge of the sciences in their natural order, 
I should have found my way much easier, and been able, 
without special diligence or effort, to acquire a degree of 
perfection, the attainment of which with the most strenuous 
exertions, I was afterwards scarcely able to effect. I hope, 
however, that no student will find himself so destitute of 
opportunities for attending to every necessary branch of 
knowledge in its proper place, as I actually was. The 
circumstances in which I lived, were altogether unfavora- 
ble to me in this respect. 

You ask me, my dear friend, in your letter, by what 
means I have endeavored to remedy the consequences of 
so defective an education, and actually succeeded in pre- 
venting them from becoming more conspicuous. Upon 
this point I can give you some information. Let me be- 
gin with that knowledge which particularly concerns us in 
the present case. 

I have never had any instruction in homiletics, or taken 
any part in homiletic exercises. This perhaps is evident 
from my sermons. Their division and arrangement may 
be very defective in comparison with what they ought to 
be, according to the rules of homiletics. That without a 
knowledge of these rules, I have been able to produce so 
many sermons and give them at least a tolerable form, is 
owing to the diligence with which I read the ancient ora- 
tors and rhetoricians, and the no less diligence with which 
I applied myself to philosophy. I had early made myself 
acquainted with the old systems of eloquence, particularly 
those of Cicero, at school. When at the university, I 
not only read them again, but with them connected Quin- 
tilian and Aristotle. With the theories of the ancients 
respecting eloquence, I compared their discourses, partic- 
ularly those of Isocrates, Demosthenes, Aeschines, Lysias 
and Cicero ; and I have always thought, that the study of 



LETTER VI. 39 

these proved of more use to me than lectures upon hom- 
iletics would have done. 

Here I must remark, that it was reading the ancients 
which formed in me that idea of genuine eloquence which 
afterwards always remained with me, which still appears 
to be the only true one, and which in my labors I have 
ever endeavored to keep before me, though I have come 
far short of it. I spent some years at the university be- 
fore I became acquainted with the Grecian orators. Un- 
til then, my notions of eloquence were drawn chiefly from 
Cicero's works. I looked upon him with admiration as 
the greatest master in this department, excepting, that, 
on comparing him with the concise Haller overflowing 
with thought, I could not avoid occasionally pronouncing 
him somewhat verbose.^ 

Excited by him, I finally began to read the Grecian 
orators ; and how astonished I was on finding in the most 
celebrated orator of all antiquity, a man, who, for accom- 
plishing his object and producing the greatest effects, never 
uses a single flower or far-fetched expression, a conceited 
and remarkable phrase, or any thing that bears the least 
iiesemblance to poetical prose ; — who, on the other hand, 
says and delivers eyery thing in those terms which are the 
most natural, correctly distinguishing and strikingly de- 
scriptive, — and hence, a man, in whom are to be discov- 
ered no traces of affectation, or struggling after wit and 
surprising turns, or of that audacity so pleasing to many, 
and said to be the companion of genius ; — a man, on the 
contrary, who chains the attention of his hearers by a dic- 
tion, strong, manly, and unincumbered with a single super- 
fluous word ; who overpowers, as it were, the understand- 
ing by the strength of his thoughts, the force of his rea- 
sons, and the superiority with which he develops them ; 
and finally, bears every thing away with him by means of 
an eloquence which rolls forth in periods, which are per- 
fect in themselves, are harmonious, and fill the ear.f 

* Many of the ancients censured him, ut tumidiorem,et Asianum, et redun- 
dantem, etin repetilionibus nimium. See Quintilian, Institut. Orat. 1. XII. c. 
10, § 12. 

t Cuius non tarn vibrarent falmina ilia, nisi numeris contorta fen-entur, says 
Cicero of him; Orat. c. 70. 



40 , LETTER VI. 

The more I read this orator, the clearer it appeared to 
me, that true eloquence is something entirely different from 
an artificial fluency of speech ; something entirely differ- 
ent from playing with antitheses and witty expressions; 
something entirely different from poetical prose, or as Kant 
calls it, prose run mad ; and finally, something entirely dif- 
ferent from that storminess and vehemence, that sputter- 
ing and foaming, and that bombast and turgidness, at which 
the great mass of the people are astonished because of 
their ignorance. If then, said I to myself, for this was the 
inference which I drew, if then I can so speak in the pul- 
pit that my discourse shall always constitute a well arrang- 
ed whole, firmly united in all its parts, and continued in 
the most natural order ; if I can always bring forward 
such matter as stands in close connexion with the most 
important concerns of my hearers and is of utility to them 
in practical life ; if I can do this so that every thought 
shall always be clothed in those words, which, of all the 
treasures of the language, distinguish it in the best and 
most striking manner ; if consequently, I can in teaching 
always find the most intelligible, in writing the most obvi- 
ous, in admonishing the most powerful, in warning, the 
most terrific, in consoling the most comforting, expres- 
sions; if I can avail myself of language so that every 
shading of the thoughts, every turn of the feelings, every 
climax of the passions, shall be. rendered manifest by it, 
and always made to touch those cords of the heart which 
they ought to do ; finally, if I can procure for my dis- 
course a fulness without bombast, an euphony without ar- 
tificial rhythm, and an ea$y uninterrupted current which 
overflows, pouring itself as it were into the ear and the 
heart ; — if I can do all this, it will constitute the eloquence 
which is adapted to the pulpit. Then my discourse will 
be clear for the intellect, easy to be remembered, exciting 
to the feelings and captivating to the heart. Then I shall 
speak of religion with that perfect simplicity, exalted dig- 
nity, and benevolent warmth, with which we ought always 
to speak of it. 

The idea of genuine eloquence thus drawn out of the 
ancients in general, but out of Cicero and Demosthenes in 
particular, became so thoroughly my own, that nothing 



LETTER VI. 41 

could please me ^vhich did not accord with it ; and it con- 
stituted the ideal perfection at which I afterwards aimed in 
working out my own sermons. That on the other hand, 
I said that np use could or ought to be made by the reh- 
gious teacher, of those arts of which the ancients availed 
themselves in their oratory, for the purpose of giving a 
good appearance to the vilest cause, infatuating the hear- 
ers with dazzling things, and inducing them to engage in 
rash undertakings by exciting their passions, will, I pre- 
sume, be taken for granted. It is true, that that part of an- 
cient eloquence which can be retained in the pulpit, had 
not then been so acutely and happily pointed out as it has 
been of late by Schott, in his Sketch of a theory of elo- 
quence, with a particular application to pulpit eloquence."^ 
The ancient rhetoricians, however, speak of the dishonest 
artifices of which orators w-ere obliged to avail themselves 
both on the stage, and before the tribunal, with so much 
frankness, that one must immediately feel them to be nei- 
ther practicable nor necessary in matters of religion. 

Tiie want of instruction in homiletics, however, and the 
omission of homiletic exercises was rendered uninjurious 
to me in particular, by the study of philosophy^ I cannot 
deny, that the philosophical sciences, for which, w^hile at 
school I felt no inclination, presented me with irresistible 
attractions, as soon as I began to attend to them at the 
university. It was not long before I esteemed them for 
their own sake. Without thinking of any use to which I 
could apply them, under the influence of a love of the 
truth, I made them an object of study and became filled 
with a sense of their immense importance. Almost every 
day convinced me of the necessity of searching after 
something tangible and pacifying in this respect, and drove 
me on to new and incessant exertions. Even while a stu- 
dent, therefore, I devoted a great part of my time to phi- 
losophy, and exerted all my strength to form an intimate 
acquaintance with the philosophemes of the acute Crusius, 
in all their extent. As, in addition to this, I afterwards 
began to teach philosophy and was obliged to lecture upon 

* Kurzer Entwurf ciner Theorie der Beredtsamkeit mit besondrer Anwend- 
ung auf die Canzelberedtsamkeit 5 Leips., 1807. 

*4 



42 LETTER VI. 

it, so, for several years, it constituted, as I shall hereafter 
remark, my principal occupation. To calculate the ad- 
vantage I should derive from this zealous and uninterrupt- 
ed attention to philosophy as an exercise preparatory to 
preaching, was a thing I never thought of, being then in- 
fluenced by my love for the study itself. It was not until 
afterwards, that I perceived I could not have gone through 
better exercises preparatory to entering upon the sacred 
office. ' 

Having by the diligent and long-continued study of phi- 
losophy, become acquainted with an immense number of 
subjects standing in various and intimate relations to Chris- 
tianity, it was not easy for me to be troubled with a want 
of materials when 1 began to preach. Having also accus- 
tomed myself to treat every thing methodically and agree- 
ably to the rules of logic, and thus gradually acquired the 
power of apprehending the connexion, organization, and 
various relations of all systems, it was not easier for me to 
form the plan of a sermon or handle a religious doctrine, 
without order. In short, that activity of thought which 
enables a man to become perfect master of his subject, 
whatever it may be, and mould it according to his pleasure, 
can be acquired only by the study of philosophy ; but a 
small share of this skill will enable any one who possesses 
it, to form the plan of a sermon with facility. If therefore 
there is any thing indispensable to a preparation for the 
ministerial office, it is, in my opinion, the study of philoso- 
phy. Not indeed that I would introduce philosophy into 
the pulpit, or give myself up to vain speculations; but in 
part, because it furnishes a man with a large stock of ma- 
terials, and in part, because it enables one to treat every 
subject in a clear and radical manner, and agreeably to 
the circumstances and relations of the time and place. "^ 
No one will, in reality, be able to speak upon religious 
truths in a manner clear, simple, easy, and intelligible, 
without having a genuine philosophical knowledge of them, 

* Nee vero sine philosophorum disciplina ^enus et speciem cuiusque rei cer- 
nere, neque earn definiendo explicarC; nee tribuere in partes possumus 5 nee 
iudicare, quae vera, quae falsa sint3 neque cernere consequenlia, repugnan- 
tia videre, amb'giia disting-uere. Quid dicam de natura rerum, cuius cognitio 
mag^nam oration! suppeditat copiam 5 de vita, de officiis, de virtu<e, de mori- 
bus, sine multa earum ipsarum rerum disciplina aut dici, aut intelligi potest ? 
Cicero in Orator, c 6. 



LETTER VI. 43 

and being complete master of all ideas connected with 
them. He therefore who has not received a philosophical 
education, though he may become a verbose chatterer, 
never can become a good preacher. His defects in this 
respect cannot be supplied by high sounding phrases, or 
pious, smoothly flowing and luxuriant forms of expression. 
He will, at most, but dazzle for a while the great mass of 
the people, without doing justice to his intelligent hearers, 
or successfully accomplishing the true object of the minis- 
terial ofHce.* 

Finally, the zeal with which I applied myself to philos- 
ophy, furnished an excellent remedy for the defects of my 
not having attended either to philosophical or theological 
ethics. As I was anxious to become acquainted with phi- 
losophy in its whole extent, and was ultimately called upon 
to teach it, so I was obliged to make myself familiar with 
its practical parts, as well as its theoretical. Accordingly, 
by my own diligence, I supplied the defects of my origi- 
nal education. And here also my love of ancient litera- 
ture turned to good account. Whh the systematic study 
of practical philosophy I began occasionally to combine 
reading the ancient moralists ; particularly Plato, Arislode, 
Arrian, Plutarch, and Seneca. He who is acquainted 
with these writers, knows what treasures of moral truths 
are heaped together in their works, and what life, power, 
and practical utility, may be derived from a systematic 
knowledge of ethics, if with it we combine a profitable 
reading of these writers. Many of them, particularly the 
Dissertationes Epicteteae of Arrian, the moral treatises of 
Plutarch, and some works of Seneca, became of so much 
importance to me in these circumstances, that I read them 
often, and always with additional profit in respect to the 
enlargement and correction of my ethical information. In 
general, practical philosophy became more interesting to 
me, the longer I occupied myself with it. Afterwards, I 
gradually passed over to the best moralists of modern 
times; and, what proved of very great usefulness to me, 
began to read the best historians and poets of every age,, 

* Here we may adduce the testimony of a man who knew best what was 
safest for an orator : '' Fateor," says Cicero, " me oratorem, si modo sim, aul 
etiam quicunque sim, non ex rhetorum ofl&cinis, sed ex academise spatiis ex- 
stitisse." Oral, c, 4. 



44 LETTER VI- 

with an exclusive reference to ethics."^ That this course 
vfery much facilitated the execution of the v^ork upon 
Christian ethics, in which, by virtue of my office as teach- 
er of theology, 1 was obliged to engage, is self-evident. 
My system of Christian morality every where exhibits 
marks of the great influence exerted upon me by these 
preparatory exercises ; and reference is every where made 
to the writers to whom I am the most indebted. 

I did not perceive all the benefit 1 had derived from this 
method of studying morality, however, until I began to 
preach. That the preacher must possess a systematic 
knowledge of morality, if he would go to the foundation in 
handling moral truths, is unquestionable.-}* This, of itself, 
however, is by no means sufficient. The preacher must 
be acquainted with the human heart, and familiar with all 
its movements, inclinations, and artifices. He must have 
examined the various dispositions and cfiaracters of men, 
and must know what difficulties and hindrances stand op- 
posed to the practice of godliness in general, and virtue in 
particular. He must have the most salutary advice at 
hand requisite for every case, and, in short, what is and 
always will be, of the most importance in his circumstan- 
ces, be possessed o( practical wisdom. That the only way 
of acquiring this, is, by paying incessant attention to one's 
own heart, and those things which we find opportunity to 
notice, connected with a diligent reading of those authors 
who have shown themselves well acquainted with human 
nature, and written expressly for life, needs no proof. 
Among these, however, the old classic authors maintain so 
high a rank, that few others can be compared with them. 

I frankly admit, therefore, that they and their best mo- 
ralists, in connexion with the Bible, which I read inces- 
santly, constituted my preacher's magazine. By them I 
have been led to a multitude of reflections, not only of 
practical utility, but very great importance. By them I 
have been enabled to find a thousand things in the moral 
precepts of the Bible, which, without this index, would 
forever have escaped me. I have no fears, my dear friend, 

* Quintilian, Institut. Orator. 1. XIT. c. 4. 

t Hence, Quintilian wished to have ethics included in rhetoric. Instil. Orat. 
l.XII. C.2, §9seqq. 



LETTER VII. 45 

of your taking offence at this confession. The truth al- 
ways remains the truth whenever and wherever it may be 
found ; and should not a preacher of the present day, draw 
from those very same sources from which the most judi- 
cious fathers of the ancient church and its best preachers, 
agreeably to their own confessions, rejoiced to draw so 
much that was useful ?* But enough of the years I devot- 
ed to study. As soon as I have more time to spare, I will 
give you some farther information respecting the com- 
mencement of my academical career, and the influence 
which it probably exerted upon my education, preparatory 
to becoming a preacher* Farewell. 



LETTER VII. 

Prepares for teaching— Lectures — Becomes Professor Extraordinary of Phi- 
losophy, Professor Ordinary of Theology, and Provost of the Castle Church 
— Passes through a painful mental struggle — Preserved from skepticism by 
respect for the Bible and for morality — The effect of all this oa his ministe- 
rial education. 

My Dear Fjriend^ — 

Permit me to give you a very short account of the 
changes I passed through from the commencement of my 
duties as academical teacher, until I was intrusted with 
the ministerial office. It will then be easy for us to ascer- 
tain in what respects they contrihuted to prepare me for 
that office. 

*The oration of Basilius tbe Great, Ad adolescentes de modo, eliteris Grae- 
cis utilitatem percipiendi, is known. Comp. Krebsen's Abhandlung aber 
diese Schrift, in the Opusculaacademica et scholastica, p.398ss., which Sturz 
has printed with his edition of the above named oration. '' Philosophi autem," 
says Augustin, " qui vocantur, si qua forte vera et fidei noslrae accommodate, 
dixerunt, niaxime Platonici, non solum formidanda non sunt, sed ab eis etiam, 
tamquam iniuslis possessoribus, in usum nostrum vindicanda." De doctrina 
-Christiana, 1, IL c, 40, 



46 LETTER VII. 

In Nov. 1777, I went about qualifying myself for the 
work before me, and devoted from that time until the 
Easter of 1778, to preparing the lectures which I intended 
to deliver. These lectures, which treated of philosophical 
and philological subjects, attracted so many hearers, that 
I was encouraged to continue them ; and being requested 
by many of my hearers to lecture upon theology also, in 
Nov. of the year 1778, 1 took the degree of Bachelor of 
Theology, necessary for this purpose. In 1780, 1 was ap- 
pointed Professor Extraordinary of Philosophy. With ex- 
press reference to this appointment, I then devoted by far 
the greatest part of my time to the philosophical sciences, 
though my hearers induced me to alternate some theologi- 
cal lectures with the philosophical. Scarcely had I sus- 
tained the office of Professor Extraordinary of Philosophy 
for two years, when I was called to become Professor Or- 
dinary of Theology, with the express reserve, however, of 
my former professorship. Accordingly, in Nov., 1782, I 
became Doctor of Theology, and in Dec. of the same 
jear, entered upon the duties of my new office. From 
this time onward, my attention was divided between phi- 
losophy and theology, as I was called upon to teach both 
of these sciences ; and as, excited by the number, zeal, 
and adherence of my auditors, I read from four to five or 
even more lectures, a day, it was not long before I had 
occasion to go through with the substance of both depart- 
ments. In this manner I had labored but two years, when 
I received the office of Provost of the Castle or University 
Church, and of course, that of preacher, upon which I ac- 
tually entered on the feast of Mary's Annunciation, in 
1784. In addition to my professorial duties, therefore, I 
had now all at once become obligated to deliver a sermon 
in the University Church, on the forenoon of every Sab- 
bath and festival. Before I say any thing of my labors as 
provost, however, let us go back, my dear friend, to the 
commencement of those years, of whose changes I have 
given you so cursory a survey, in order to see what was 
done during this time to prepare me for the business of 
preaching, and ensure me some success in the ministerial 
office. 

From 1778 to 1784^ I did not, I may say, exercise my- 



LETTER VII. 47 

self in preaching, at all ; for during this period, I certainly 
did not preach more than four times at the farthest ; and 
one of these, was, when I became Doctor of Theology. 
This is easy to be accounted for. During this period, I 
was not obliged to preach either as a matter of duty or 
office ; and having enough to do with the sciences, the 
principles of which I wished thoroughly to investigate, and 
then exhibit in the clearest and best manner, I could not 
think of entering the pulpit. Besides, so long as I was 
Professor Extraordinary of Philosophy, I was uncertain 
whether I should not entirely and forever exchange the 
pulpit for the philosophical chair. At least, I had so much 
to do with the latter and for it, that I lost the former en- 
tirely out of view. I did indeed conduct exercises in a 
small society and at its request, in the composition and 
delivery of sermons ; and in particular, give some general 
directions respecting their proper construction. These, 
however, were out of the usual course, and soon brought 
to a close by the gradual dispersion of the society. With 
regular exercises of this kind, I absolutely had nothing to 
do, during this period. 

And here, my dear friend, I cannot avoid giving you a 
description of the internal struggle so singular, and, in re- 
spect to my whole learned education, so important, through 
which I passed, in the first years of my academical career. 

I have told you that I was a zealous Crusian when I be- 
gan to deliver lectures. If I had not been, I should not 
have taken the trouble which I actually did, to acquire a 
thorough knowledge of the system of this somewhat heavy 
philosopher. Accordingly, I adopted it in my first lec- 
tures. In so doing, however, I felt myself under a press- 
ing necessity to become acquainted also with other philo- 
sophical systems ; in part, for the purpose of ascertaining 
what the best geniuses of every age had thought respect- 
ing the great problems which philosophy has to solve ; and 
iQ^art, because I saw that my own views could not be 
thorough and satisfactory until I had taken such a survey, 
and become acquainted with opposing systems. Hence, I 
began with great zeal to look into the most celebrated sys- 
tems of the ancient and modern world, and in particular, 
to read the various authors extant upon every system. 



48 i.ETTER vri. 

But how astonished I was, and overwhelmed with em- 
barrassment, when, in this course of study, I discovered a 
multitude of weak parts in my own system, of which I 
had before had no suspicion. In proportion as my philo- 
sophical views were extended, I learned, that many things 
could be said in favor of those positions, which, to the par- 
tial Crusians, had either appeared absurd, or highly dan- 
gerous ; the stronger I began to feel that every system con- 
tains something true and good ; that in every one, human 
reason exhibits itself in some peculiar way, and hence, 
that every one is deserving of investigation and respect ; 
the more doubts arose in my njind ; the more uncertain 
the ground became, upon which I before believed myself 
standing with such firmness ; and finally, it came to such a 
pass, (for why should I not confess to you the truth,) — it 
came to such a pass, that I had nothing firm under my 
feet ; that I was involved in the mazes of discordant spec- 
ulations, and fluttering as it were in the air, without know- 
ing any longer where to find the ground. 

About this time, disputes became more and more gen- 
eral in the theological world, and not only threatened to 
shake doctrinal theology in particular, but actually to over- 
turn it. These greatly added to the perplexity of my in- 
ternal fermentation, and sometimes increased it to the most 
painful disquietude. 

Neither my conscience nor my heart, however, would 
suffer me to remain ignorant of these disputes and discus- 
sions. The question, What connexion has philosophy 
with revelation, and how can the two be reconciled togeth- 
er ? had always been an interesting and important one to 
me, and it became increasingly so, from the moment I was 
called to deliver lectures upon theology. It is in vain for 
me to attempt to give you a description of the sad strug- 
gle in which I saw myself involved every morning ; — a 
struggle which was renewed with every preparation I made 
for lecturing, and as often accompanied with the greatest 
helplessness and embarrassment. The idea of saying any 
thing which should infect the youth with pernicious error, 
filled me with trembling; and yet I had to speak of a 
thousand things respecting which I was obliged to explain 
myself with such problematicalness, as to render a convic- 



LETTER VII. 49 

tion of the truth impossible. Accordingly, the striking of 
the clock which called me to the lecture-room, often found 
me walking up and down my chamber with tears in my 
eyes, engaged in earnest prayer to God, that he would 
guide me at least in such a manner, as not to suffer me to 
do any thing detrimental to religion and morality ; and not 
unfrequently was it difficult for me to conceal my internal 
commotion from my hearers. Notwithstanding the un- 
certainty, however, in which all my knowledge, even that 
which I had considered as resting upon a solid basis, was, 
about this time involved, two principles remained by me 
unshaken : Firsts never to permit myself to indulge in any 
explanations in philosophy which did violence to my moral 
feelings ; and second^ never to assert any thing in theology 
which was at variance with the obvious declarations of the 
Bible. 

That any thing could be true in philosophy which was 
prejudicial to morality, was something of which I could in 
no wise be convinced. Positions of this kind, with how 
much so ever plausibility they were laid down, always dis- 
gusted me. By means of the moral education I had re- 
ceived, and the diligent attention I had paid to my own 
improvement, moral feeling had been rendered too active 
in me, not immediately to reject and that too with aversion, 
every position of an immoral tendency ; and whenever 
such occurred to me, I soon succeeded in discovering 
their falsity and tracing out the sophisms upon which they 
rested. Hence, though I found myself unable to embrace 
any party as a whole, and felt very far removed from any 
system which had been thoroughly tried and was satisfac- 
tory to myself, yet I never embraced any opinions of a 
dangerous character or prejudicial to morality ; and be- 
sides, I was an Eclectic, whose object was to obtain what 
appeared to be the best and most tenable of every system, 
and arrange it in a convenient form. This being the case, 
that my philosophical lectures were always assuming a 
new aspect is a matter of course. I constantly extended 
my investigations and arrived at new views and re- 
sults. This could prove of no disadvantage to my hear- 
ers. I always gave them, what, according to duty and 
conscience, I considered the best and truest ; and if any 
5 



50 LETTER VII.- 

of them, on hearing me lecture upon the same subjects 
again, discovered changes, it led them to reflect for them- 
selves, and filled them with a spirit of investigation ; and 
to awaken a spirit of investigation in my hearers, and teach 
them to stand upon their own feet, was the grand object 
of all my lectures, particularly the philosophical. 

In regard to theology : The principle, not to approve 
of any thing in theology which was at variance with the 
obvious declarations of the Bible, confined me to a mid- 
dle course, in which, with sufficient freedom for examina- 
tion, I was restrained from running off too far into error. 
That this proved prejudicial to the students committed to my 
charge, I will not pretend to deny. The Bible, as I lately 
informed you. my dear friend, had been my companion 
from my youth. [ had never ceased to look upon it as 
the word of God to man, and read it as such. To me 
therefore it was of sacred and decisive authority. Hence, 
a position which contradicted it, disgusted my religious 
feelings, as m.uch as an immoral assertion did my moral 
sense. That I regularly and faithfully examined the 
principles upon which the authority of the Scriptures rest, 
you will take for granted. Before I did so, however, it 
was a matter of conscience with me not to involve myself 
in any contention with a book w^hich originated with God, 
and consUtutes the instruction of so large a portion of our 
race ; the divine power of which I had so often experi- 
enced in my own heart, and for which all my feelings had 
ever declared in so decided a manner. In addition to this, 
I was born in a church, which is the proper kingdom of 
the Scriptures, acknowledging as it does no other unlimit- 
ed authority and deriving its system of doctrines entirely 
from them. This system appeared to me to be far more 
agreeable to the Scriptures, provided they are received 
without any human refinements or perversions, than that 
of any other religious party of Christians. Hence, not- 
withstanding the greatness of my internal fermentation, and 
the length of my struggles with doubts of every kind, I 
could, from the very beginning, not only teach the system 
of doctrines embraced by the Evangelical church, but, if 
I acted conscientiously, was obliged to do so. Of course, 
I afterwards did this with increasing delight and thorough- 



LETTER VII- 51 

ness; as I became more and more convinced, that the es- 
sential parts of this system are contained in the Scriptures 
and too deeply founded upon them, ever to be mistaken, 
or by any of the arts of interpretation, entirely explained 
away. 

And now, my dear friend, as to the result : Strictly 
speaking, the six years which I have just described or the 
time from 1778 to 1784, cannot be reckoned as devoted 
to an immediate preparation for the ministry. During this 
remarkable period of my life, I was zealously engaged in 
inquiries after truth and certainty, and made it my prin- 
cipal aim to obtain correct views of those subjects 
which by every rational man ought to be looked upon as 
the most sacred and important. With the business of 
preaching during this period of struggle, I did not trouble 
myself. That it was a period of immense usefulness to 
me, however, in this respect, you will yourself infer. The 
exercises in teaching and thinking in which I had to en- 
gage, the various acquisitions which I was obliged to make, 
the stores of useful materials which I acquired, the many 
precious reflections to which I was led, and, what is more 
than all the rest, the joyful convictions respecting the most 
important concerns of man, which I gradually obtained, — 
all these proved of great value to me when I began to 
preach. I then found myself neither destitute of materials 
to work upon, nor void of skill to give what was to be de- 
livered, the requisite order and connexion. In respect 
also to expression and representation, I had gained more 
than I had lost ; for without words it is impossible to phil- 
osophize, and the reading of the best and acutest writers 
in which I employed myself during this period, proved 
of great use to me in increasing my knowledge of lan- 
guage and forming my taste. It is time, however, for me 
to hasten to my entrance upon the business of preaching. 
Permit me to give you an account of myself in this res- 
pect in my next letter, and in the mean time, farewell. 



52 



LETTER VIII, 



LETTER VIII. 

Becomes a Pastor — Ministerial habits — Complains of his memory — No imita- 
tor — Wrote very methodically — His first sermons quite defective — Ought to 
have read and studied the best masters. 

My Dear Fbiend — 

I bad not preached more than sixteen or twenty times 
at the farthest, in all my life, when 1 was ushered into a very 
important station as a minister of the Gospel, and one, 
who was to have young students for his hearers, and serve 
as a pattern to those who w^ere destined to become miniS}- 
ters themselves. You will readily suppose that I deeply 
felt the importance of my calling, and entered upon it re- 
solved to do the utmost in my power to perform 'ths^du ties, 
and to omit nothing so far as knowledge and design were 
concerned, which should be requisite for enabling me to 
render my sermons useful. As I was obliged to begin 
preaching without having gone through much preparatory 
exercise, in the midstof labors of an entirely different kind, 
the whole employment wnth me had some peculiarities, 
which I will lay open to you in regular order. 

I was scarcely ever master of my own time. Almost 
every moment I had to spare, during the week, was devo- 
ted to the business of my professorship. The only time 
I had for composing -sermons, was, what I had formerly 
spent in reading and extending my studies. I was also 
unable to calculate upon my heahh. It had never been 
firm, and with the efforts which I was now obliged to 
make, it certainly could not gain. Accordingly, I was 
subject to sudden fits of indisposition, particularly to 
ephemeral fevers, which often atacked me when I was 
least prepared for them. 

Hence, when I began to preach, I firmly resolved, nev- 
er to postpone the composing of a sermon to the last mo- 
ment, but always to commence the work as soon as possi- 
ble. From the very outset, therefore, I made it an inva- 



LETTER VIII. 53 

liable rule, before delivering one sermon, to have another 
already prepared to follow it, in my desk. 

This was of more than one advantage to me. I was 
never driven to the necessity of preaching unprepared or 
of extemporizing. I was ready for every occasion long 
before it arrived. If unforeseen events occured, or my 
studies were interrupted, or sudden fits of indisposition at- 
tacked me, they could not injure my labor ; for if these 
things took place during the latter part of the week, they 
could not affect the sermon already in my desk, and am- 
ple time was always left for me to plan another to succeed 
it, and write it out, with all the requisite care. More than 
all the rest, however, this habit of early preparation made 
it unnecessary for me to do any thing in haste. Some- 
times I did not succeed to my mind as to every point in 
my first attempts at composing a sermon. As however 
more than a week was to elapse before it would be deliv- 
ered, I had ample time for working over the whole of it 
or a part, as often as I pleased, and endeavoring to render 
it, at least, in som'e measure perfect."^ Hence, my ser- 
mons naturally acquired a certain uniformity of character. 
At any rate, they had this perfection if no other, that one 
was not exalted too much above another, as all had in the 
main received an equal share of attention. These advan- 
tages induced me to continue the habit of early prepara- 
tion for the pulpit, even after I ceased to be professor, 
when I had far more time to devote to my sermons. This 
I wa^ constrained to do, so much the more, from the fact, 
that the ideal perfection at which I aimed in composing a 
sermon, was always becoming more elevated, and conse- 
quently, required me to make increasing exertions to effect 
its attainment, 1 labored therefore at this time, notwith- 
standing I had preached so often and so long, more hours 
and with greater diligence upon my sermons than I did at 
first ; and hence, was obliged to calculate closer than for- 
merly, in order to obtain sufiicient leisure for composing 
them. 

* [" I cannot recommend Relnhard's custom of ™tlng a second sermon 
before the first was delivered, to those who commit their discourses ; as the 
two things united must occasion perplexity." Tzschirner, Briefe veranlasst 
durch Reinhard's Gestandnisse, u. s. w. Sulzbach, 1810; S. 248 flf.] 

*6 



54 LETTER VIll. 

No sooner had I commenced the business of preaching, 
than I became very painfully conscious of a defect, which 
had not wholly escaped me before, but which I had not 
much regarded ; namely, the want of a good^ ready, and 
retentive memory for words. In recollecting things, con- 
nected trains of thought, and whole systems of well ar- 
ranged ideas, I never found any difficulty ; and the atten- 
tion I had paid to philosophy, had greatly exercised and 
strengthened my memory in this respect. To call to 
mind however a discourse I was to deliver, in exactly 
those words and phrases in which it was written, was not 
so easy a task ; nor could 1, at first, consistently with the 
arrangements I had made for composing my sermons, en- 
tirely prevent all the injurious results of a defective mem- 
ory. Nevertheless, I was sensible of the impossibility of 
avoiding the introduction of inappropriate and undignified 
expressions, falling into tautological excrescenses, speaking 
with imperspicuity and indefiniteness, and perhaps, by means 
of a careless style, of exciting aversion and disgust, in 
any other way, than by adhering to the very terms and ex- 
pressions, which, in writing my sermons, I had selected as 
the best. Hence, I applied every spare moment I could 
find during the week, particularly dressing time, to gradual- 
ly committing my sermon to memory, in order that I might 
be able to deliver it without embarrassment. That under 
such circumstances, I found this part of my duty the hard- 
est I had to perform, is a confession you will naturally ex- 
pect. Indeed, with the most conscientious diligence and 
care in this respect, 1 could not avoid letting many things 
slip in the delivery, and often entirely destroying a well 
constructed period, by substituting new and ill-adapted ex- 
pressions instead of the ones which had originally been 
selected ; nor have I been able by constant exercise, to 
remedy this natural defect of my memory; for it costs 
me now as much trouble as it did at first, to take up every 
thing when I preach, exactly in the qrder in which it was 
conceived and written.* 



* ]^^ That a sermon should be carefully worked out and committed to mem- 
ory beforehand , whenever it is possible, I have/' says Tzschirner, ( Briefe u. s. 
w., already referred to, S. 248 ff.,) " become thoroughly convinced. To read a 
sermon shackles an orator, prevents his hearers from indulging the agreeabj« 



LETTER Vlir. 55 

From the circumstances which I have now recounted, 
you will be able in a great measure to collect the reasons 
why my sermons have received ihe peculiar form and di- 
vision which they possess. For me to imitate a master, 
when I was obliged to begin preaching, w^as impossible. 
From the history of literature indeed, I had become ac- 
quainted with the most distinguished men in this depart- 
ment, but of their mode of sermonizing I was totally igno- 
rant. The above named Passion Senlions of Saurin were 
the only ones I had ever read, and all the idea I ever had 
of imitating this excellent man, soon passed away in the 
midst of a pressure of business, or was annihilated by that 
activity of thought which will not readily submit to re- 
straint. I gave myself up, therefore, to my own opinions 
and feelings. 

When a professor, I was in the habit of composing my 
discourses in a very methodical manner, and this habit fol- 
lowed me into the pulpit. My sermons contained defini- 
tions, divisions, and arguments, just hke my lectures ; and 

illusion that what he says and feels is the result of the moment, and transforms 
him into a mere teacher. It may be tolerated in an aged man, but should be 
wholly avoided by the young-. To extemporize leads to superficiali'y and 
chattering. True, the ancients often extemporized, but not until after years of 
training, and then on occasions which sponianeoush furnished the orator with 
enough to say ; whereas the minister has to draw from his ovvti mediations. 
It is far better, indeed, for a man to speak from a plan, than a half written, 
half committed sermon 3 but I advise you, my dear li*iend, to extemporize as 
little as possible/' The opinion here expressed, is quite a prevalent one in 
Germany, and has man3' plausible arguments in its favor 3 but is it correct? 
Of the different modes of addressing an audience, that is the best which ena- 
bles the orator to keep the field of thought the most viv.'dly before him. With 
the Germans, we must ask, What can be more unfavorable than reading a ser- 
mon, in this respect? To speak a sermon memoriter is ascending a grade 
higher, provided it be well committed, and the man have a soul that will kindle. 
How easy, however, even in this case, to los(i sight of the field of thought^ in 
the mechanical process of rehearsing words ? 'J'hat many eloquent discourses 
must be composed, long and intensely analyzed, studied, and repeated, be 
fore a man can l^ecome an orator, is readilj' admitted 5 but is memoriter 
preaching the most favorable to oratory ? Will it enable a man to keep the 
field of thought most vividly before him ? And yet the objections made by the 
Germans to extemporary speaking, are also founded in truth. Nothing can be 
more injurious in the end, to real oratory, or to the cause of truth, than that 
chattering mode of declaiming which is so generally known as extemporary 
preaching. There ig another mode, which if I mistake not, combines the ad- 
vantages both of memoriter preaching and extemporizing, enables a man to 
keep the field of thought before him, thus lighting up the fiire within, and holds 
him ready for new impulses 5 the attainment of which, will constitute the per- 
fect orator. It consists in committing thoughts and illustrations to memory 
with little or no reference to words, and then giving the audience an unhesi- 
tating and simple description of what lies before the mind, as we describe a 
beautiful landscape to a friend.] 



56 LETTER VIII. 

were as closely directed in every respect to the devotion of 
my hearers in the church, as the latter were to the atten- 
tion of my hearers in the theological lecture-room. That 
the early education I received had greatly inclined me to 
this kind of preaching, you will infer, my dear friend, from 
what has already been said. There were some particular 
reasons, however, which justified me, as I supposed, in 
this, I may almost say, scholastic mode of preaching. As 
I had to preach in the University Church, the majority of 
my hearers w^ere learned men and students. To these, 
capable as they were of following out a regular and close- 
ly connected discourse, I considered it my duty to have 
particular respect. Strictly speaking, they had been in- 
trusted to me, and constituted my church. To this it may 
be added, that my capricious memory did not well retain 
any thing but what was closely connected together. The 
more accurately and methodically my sermon was adjust- 
ed in all its parts, even the smallest divisions, the easier I 
found it to be gotten by heart. "^ That in the midst of the 
loads of business of every kiqd with which 1 was surround- 
ed, I should avail myself of this assistance as much as 
possible, was natural. Finally, I learned from experi- 
ence that this mode of preaching proved of great utility, 
even to common people. At first, only a few came to 
hear me. My manner of preaching was too strange to 
them to present them with many attractions. These few 
however, gradually became accustomed to my style of 
writing, and soon their numbers increased ; so that in the 
end, I found myself by no means destitute of illiterate 
hearers. Those of this class who attended, were, in a 
short time, able accurately to remember the whole train of 
thought contained in each sermon, together with its princi- 
pal contents. There w^ere citizens' wives, who could, from 
Sabbath to Sabbath, give a minute account of each dis- 
course they heard, with all its divisions and sub-divisions. 
As, therefore, I considered it my duty to preach from 
memory, and felt anxious to have my hearers as intimately 
acquainted as possible, with what 1 said, utility required 
me, as I believed, to continue this mode of sermonizing. 

* Quintilian expressly recommends good arrangement for the sake of the 
.assistance it affords a man's memory. Institut. Orat. 1. XI. c. 2, 9, 36, 37. 



LETTER VIII. 57 

It is true, that in so doing, I was obliged to renounce many 
things connected with rhetorical taste ; but I did this the 
more wiHingly, as I had always looked upon the Christian 
minister, as a teaclier, rather than an orator; and from 
experience, I gradually learned, that a discourse so com- 
posed as to constitute a well arranged whole, is not only 
capable of being clothed in an interesting dress, but also of 
being filled with animation. Farther on, however, I sliall 
call your attention more particularly to some parts of this 
method, which I either do not wish to have imitated at all, 
or, at least, not by preachers in the country. 

Here I must add the confession, that the sermons I 
preached during the first years of my ministry, were, in 
reality^ very imperfect. The reason of this was, that 1 had 
gone through no exercises in this department, and was 
obhged to acquire all the skill which I ought to have brougbt 
with me to the work, in the progress of the work itself, i 
cannot forbear saying, therefore ; let no one destined for 
the ministry, fail to improve every opportunity which pre- 
sents, in attending tq^the necessary preparatory exercises. 
The greatest natural talents will not compensate for the want 
of such exercises. A man of genius will get along better, 
indeed, under such circumstances, than one that is not, 
and complete his task at an earlier period ; but length of 
time will certainly not accomplish what, with a little more 
diligence in the proper season, might have been accom- 
plished at once. I felt the imperfection of my sermons 
very sensibly, — more sensibly than my goodnatured hear- 
ers. Hence, though I had preached at VVitternberg for 
eight years, yet I had not been persuaded to print more 
than eighteen sermons, two of them separately, as I have 
already informed you, my dear friend ; the remaining six- 
teen, in a volume by themselves. I became more deeply 
sensible, however, of the imperfections of these sermons, 
some time afterwards, than I was while at Wiitemberg. I 
then undertook to repeat some of the sermons which I had 
formerly delivered, but could not, so dissatisfied was I with 
them, without working them entirely over. Many years 
have now elapsed since I altogether relinquished such an 
attempt ; for though I now have more than a hundred such 
sermons by me, yet, taken as a whole, they are, according 



58 



LETTER VIII. 



to ray present feelings, so very imperfect, that I should be 
obliged to work them all over in order to render them tol- 
erable. 

Let me conclude this letter, my dear friend, with a con- 
fession which 1 feel bound to make by way of caution to 
young ministers. Perhaps my sermons would have been 
far better at an earlier period, if I had read and studied the 
best masters in the department to which I was devoted, 
taking them for my guides. This, however, I never did, 
and, oppressed as I was with business, was utterly unable 
to do. It is true, I had the charge of a little society, which 
met once a week, formed plans, and wrote sermons, sub- 
mitting them to my criticism. With this society, there 
was also connected a reading association, in which fifty 
volumes of works selected by myself with an especial re- 
ference to the ministry, were circulated every week. Of 
course, these works comprised some of the best collections 
of sermons then in existence, and which students might 
well have considered as patterns. However diligently they 
were read by others, I had no time to read them. Indeed, 
obliged as I was, constantly to compose sermons for my- 
self, I could not think of reading the sermons of others. If 
I was ever so happy as to get any time for reading, I wished 
to devote it to something in another form which was cal- 
culated to recruit me by novelty or variety. It was not 
until I had been Court Preacher for several years, that I 
began to form an acquaintance with the spirit and manner 
of the best French, English, and German preachers. Some 
of Zollikofer's sermons were the first I read for this pur- 
pose. I immediately found the productions of this great 
man, fraught with a thousand excellencies which mine did 
not possess, but which they might have possessed, at least 
in part, had I made myself acquainted with them at an 
earlier period. I was now too old, however, to think of 
imitation, and too much habituated to my own method, to 
effect any great changes in it. The only advantage there- 
fore which I could at this time, and which I actually did, 
draw from them, consisted in the fact, that they induced 
me to lay myself under higher obligations, and made me 
feel very vividly how far I still was, from the goal of per- 
fection. 



LETTER IX. 59 

I hope that young preachers will take warning from my 
example. In more than one respect, it is necessary and 
useful for a man to obtain a practicable knowledge of what 
is best and most worthy of being read, in the department 
to which he is devoted ; nor will it contribute in any small 
degree, towards perfecdng the education of a minister, if 
he from time to time make himself acquainted with the 
greatest masters in his art and study their works ; not 
for the purpose of slavishly imitating them, but in order to 
c[uicken his percepdon of the truly beautiful and great, 
correct his taste, and then form a method of his own which 
shall harmonize the best with his powers, talents, and the 
circumstances in wdiich he is placed. I had been taught 
by Cicero, to neglect none of the productions of the great- 
est orators. Every body acquainted with his works, knows 
from his Brutus, how familiar he was with all the Greek 
and Roman sciences connected with his art, and with what 
diligence he studied the literature of his department. May 
his example so much neglected by myself in this respect, 
prove exciting and salutary to others. Farewell. 



LETTER IX. 



Chooses to speak of his creed — Be^n preaching in times of great religious 
controversy — was censured by some, apologized for, by others, for adher- 
ing to Orthodoxy — Very much pained by the latter — How he arrived at his 
religious views — Early saw the necessity of adhering entirely to reason, or 
entirely to revelation — Those following a middle course, involred in uncer- 
tainty — Knew not what they were about — Felt himself obliged to adhere 
entirely to revelation — Welcomes truth however from all quarters — A be- 
lief in revelation favorable to reason and effect — The grand cause of his 
adherence to the Gospel, his need of a Saviour — Solemn conclusion. 

My Dear Friend — 

You will excuse me, you say, from speaking of the 
subjects and contents of my sermons, inasmuch as it 



60 



LETTER IX. 



is sufficiently evident to every one, who examines them, 
that the principles they contain are those of the Evan- 
gelical church, as embodied in its articles of faith ; and 
that none of them, however numerous they are, can be 
looked upon as merely doctrinal or ethical, as the theo- 
retical and practical parts of religion are every where com- 
bined together, and exhibited in their mutual connexion. 
I not only acknowledge the justice of these remarks, but 
confess the gratitude 1 feel, for the readiness with which 
you refrain from asking me to defend my orthodoxy 
and adherence to the ancient doctrines of our church. 
Such in all cases being the character of my sermons, you 
wish for, nothing more, as you say, respecting them, than an , 
account of the form in which they were composed. You' 
will excuse me, however, if I make no use of your for- 
bearance. Permit me, on the other hand, to devote this 
letter to saying something about the reasons why my ser- 
mons contain such principles and no others. 

On account of my adherence to the doctrines of our 
church, or rather to the doctrines of the Bible, which have 
always been recognized in my sermons, I have, on the 
one hand, been bitterly censured, and in reality calumni- 
ated ; and, on the other, tenderly apologized for and de- 
fended ; and I will frankly confess to you, my dear friend, 
that the latter has grieved me far more than the former. 

I commenced preaching at a time in which our illumin- 
ating theologians had succeeded in rendering the doctrines 
of Christianity so clear and intelligible, that nothing was 
left but pure Rationalism. Then, for any who wished to 
get applause and obtain journal approbation, it w^as an al- 
most indispensable condition, that he should have declared 
some book of the Bible spurious, or have attacked some 
established doctrine. He who ventured to make his 
appearance in public without doing homage to the spirit of 
the age, might calculate upon being received with ridicule 
and contempt. That I did not escape this fate ; that, on 
the other hand, my adherence to the ancient doctrines was 
pronounced incomprehensible by the reviewers, treated 
with injustice and severity, and spoken of with bitterness 
and sarcasm, is a matter with w^hich you must have been 
acquainted. One of these zealots thought it advisable ta 



LETTER IX. 61 

give a connected representation of the most powerful 
things which had been said in this respect, and publish 
them in a little book.* 

On the other hand, as I never wrote a word in my own 
defence, there were patrons who came forward without 
invitation, for the purpose of solving the riddle. That I 
remained such an old fashioned believer from stupidity or 
want of learning, was something which, as they asserted, 
could not be admitted. " It must therefore be supposed," 
said they, '* that he speaks as he does, in order to accom- 
modate himself to the circumstances and relations in 
which he is placed. It cannot be doubted that he is at 
heart convinced of the opposite truths, and a firm be- 
liever in the correctness of the modern explanations given 
of the Scriptures, for what man of genius and learning is 
not } The country in which he instructs however, is prob- 
ably not prepared for this new light ; or perhaps it is his 
opinion, that a public religious teacher should deliver such 
truths as he is enjoined to do by the state, without blend- 
ing with them any particular opinions of his own ; and as, 
in the celebrated work entitled, the Contest of the Facul- 
iies^-\ this was shown to be very rational and proper, so 
every thing was cleared up, and but little left, necessary 
for putting an end to my orthodoxy. 

That this mode of apologizing for, and defending me, 
filled my heart with far more pain than all the abuses I 
received, is a thing at which no one will be less astonished, 
my friend, than yourself. You know me, from long ex- 
perience, to be frank and open hearted. You know, that 
I never speak otherwise, even in common life, than as I 
think. Yoa know, that I cannot speak a word contrary to 
my convictions, and that, should I attempt to do so, 
it wou'd die upon my tongue. You know that I never 
flatter a man, and that, in the pulpit especially, whenever 
it has been necessary, I have spoken with a frankness 
amounting even to boldness. And, finally, you know, that 

* It is entitled : Neueste protestantische Bekennlnisse Oher Sectengeist 
nnd Canzelkrieg, veranlasst durch die Re'mhardische Refonna'i<ns predict von 
1800, gesainmelt zum Besten seiner AmtsbrUder von Wilhfclm Koiter, Predi- 
^ern in der Rheinpfalz. Deatschland, 1802. 

t Der Streit der Facultaien. 

6 



62 



LETTER IX, 



whenever this frankness became useless, or incapable of 
defence, instead of changing my views and beginning to 
speak in another tone, I invariably remained silent. And 
yet, in the most important of all concerns, I was pronounc- 
ed by the world a dishonest man ; was said to teach a re- 
ligion wdiich I did not believe ; and accused of perform- 
ing the duties of my office like a miserable hireling, not 
for the sake of the truth or the salvation of the souls in- 
trusted to my care, but for the sake of ray own advan- 
tage ! If the relations which I sustained in Saxony, were 
so oppressive, could I not have gone into other countries, 
where perfect freedom was to be enjoyed ? Did I not re- 
ceive calls and invitations from such countries ? And was 
1 not in general, so circumstanced, that I could obtain a 
measure of independence, whenever I wished ? Happy 
it was, that none of these deceptive representations pro- 
duced any effect upon my church. My moral habits and 
entire mode of action were of too upright a character, to 
permit them to mistrust me in the least respect, or look 
upon me as an equivocator. Besides, he who ever heard 
me preach, knew from my manner, that what I uttered, 
came from the heart, and felt, that I spoke the language 
of deep rooted and firmly established conviction. 

Permit me then to explain to you in a few words, how 
I arrived at those views so offensive to our reforming the- 
ologians. Of the labor it cost me to obtain harmonious 
and firm results in philosophy and religion, I have already 
given you an account. In my struggles after the truth, I 
could not fail to perceive, that strict and systematic con- 
nexion, unity of principle, and consistency of thought in 
religion, could be acquired only by adhering entirely to 
reason, or entirely to the Scriptures ; and hence, in reali- 
ty, only by the Rationalist or Supernaturalist. With the 
former, reason alone decides. What she does not com- 
prehend and approve of, he utterly rejects from his creed. 
His knowledge therefore is connected and homogeneous. 
With him, the Scriptures have no more authority than any 
other human production. He listens to what they say 
only when it agrees with his own opinions ; and then, not 
because he supposes it affords any decisive proof of what 
he believes, for in this respect he trusts alone to reason, 



LETTER IX. 63 

but merely for the purpose of illustration, and showing, that 
others have thought and helieved, as he does. 

In like manner, consistent with himself and in every re- 
spect faithful to his own principles, is the Supernaturalist. 
To him in matters of religion the Scriptures are, what 
reason is to the Rationalist. He makes use of the latter 
indeed, for the purpose of examining the claims of the 
Scriptures, and the arguments in favor of their high origin ; 
but as soon as this is done, — as soon as he is convinced 
that the instructions they contain, originated with God, he 
receives their authority as decisive in every thing pertain- 
ing to religion. Thenceforward, reason has nothing to do 
but to explain the Scriptures and endeavor to ascertain 
their meaning ; and the doctrines to which this process 
leads her, however strange they may seem, or far they 
may lie beyond the reach of her discovery or ability to 
prove, she is by no means at liberty to reject, unless they 
contain some things contradictory in themselves. On the 
oiher hand, she is bound to recognize them as from God, 
and yield obedience to them as of divine authority.* 

It is perfectly evident, that a man will reason inconsis- 
tently, and fail of lighting upon any satisfactory and de- 
termining principle for the regulation of his knowledge, so 
long as he pursues a middle course and makes reason and 
Scripture co-ordinate, instead of making the one subordi- 

* " Respecting the possibility and necessity of a revelation," says Lessing, 
^^and the credibility of the many who lay claim to inspiration, reason alone 
must decide. When she has settled these points and discovered a revelation, 
she nruist look upon its containing- thing's above her comprehension as an argu- 
ment in its favor rather than an objection to it. One might as well have none, 
as to think of excluding every thing supernatural from his religion 3 for what is 
a revelation which reveals nothing ? Is it enough for a man to reject the 
name and retain the thing ? Are there no other unbelievers but those who re- 
ject the name and the thing together?" Soon after, he adds: ''The very 
idea of a revelation implies, that reason has been taken captive and brought 
in subjection to faith 3 or rather, as this expression may seem harsh on the one 
hand, and indicate opposition on the other, that reason has surrendered to 
faith. This surrendermg is nothing more than acknowledging her limits, as 
soon as she is connnced of the reality of the revelation. Accordingly, this is 
the position in which a man must maintain himself. To be laughed out of it 
by invidious ridicule, betrays a soul contracted with vanity ; to allow one's 
self to think of relaxing the claims of these proofs, evinces a doubt in the 
reality of a revelation. What one tries to save in this way, will be lost with 
so much the less opposition. It is only a snare which the opponents of the 
Christian religion, by magnifying the incomprehensible, lay, to catch those of 
Its defenders who are not altogether certain of the goodness of their cause 
and wish above all things to guard the honor of their acuteness." Lessing, 
Sammlliche Werke, Th, V. S. 26—30. 



64 



LETTER IX. 



nate to the other. Tn this case, there is no way for deter- 
mining the extent of their respective rights or adjusting 
their proper claims Nothing farther is then left but the 
capricious will, under the direction of which, the man 
sometimes yields to the control of reason, at others, to the 
control of the Scriptures, and sometimes receives doc- 
trines which are altogether unknown to reason, merely be- 
cause they are found in the Bible ; and at others, rejects 
positions, however Scriptural they may be and clearly ex- 
pressed, merely because they are displeasing to reason. 
Those who adopt this course, therefore, and act accord- 
ingly, can never arrive at any thing definite. One will 
incline too much to reason, another too much to revela- 
tion. One will declare unworthy of belief and absurd, 
what another adheres to, with firmness, and deems per- 
fectly reconcilable with reason. He who has from his 
youth retained a reverence for the Scriptures, will permit 
them to exert a greater influence upon his system, than 
one who early became accustomed to reject all authority 
and follow merely his own reason.* 

In this middle course, — a course which never can lead 
to any thing more than to rhapsodical knowledge composed 
of heterogeneous materials, and hence, always disconnect- 
ed and indefinite, — 1 thought I discovered the mostof ihose 
theologians who were laboring for the purification of the 
system of Christian truth. With due consideration I say 
the most. That there were men among them who knew 
well what they were about, and were genuine Rationalists, 

* [The above remarks of Reiuhard, respeclini^ the necessity of every one's 
adhering altogether to reason, or altogether to revelation, who would obtain 
consistent views in matters of religion, served to renew the controversy upon 
this subject, in Germany. Many good men thought, and doubtless still think, 
that Reinhard was too severe in his mode of thinking in this respect. To this 
effect are the remarks of Tzschirner, Briefe, veranlasst, u. s. w., V. S. 75 ff. 
His correspondent, while he declares himself a believer in revelation, declares 
himself unable to receive the whole of the Bible as the word of God, having 
strong objections to what it says respecting the introduction of mortality into 
the world, as well as respecting angels, demons, &c. ; and Tzschirner justifies 
him, declaring he believt s it possible for a man to take this ground, and yet 
obtain consistent views in religion. Those who wish to enter into this subject, 
will find a good guide in the Germ, Conv. Lex. Art. Eaiicvaliirtivs ; with 
which may be connected particularly, Naturalismus , Supranaturalismus^ 
Syncretisiuus ; and several works referred to at the end of Tzschirner's fifth 
Letter mentioned above. Compare Prof. Stuart's Letter to the Rev. Wm. E. 
Channing; p. 13 f. third ed., And. 1819.] 



LETTER IX. 65 

but thought it advisable not to let it be known, and hence, 
at heart, rejected every thing positive in religion, without 
questioning it at all in public, or making it a subject of dis- 
pute, was a fact too obvious to escape the notice of atten- 
tive observers. But. by far the greater part of these illu- 
minating theologians in reality knew not what they were 
^bout, and had no idea of the tendency of their efforts. 
Believing they were doing no small service to the cause of 
truth, and elevating themselves not a little above the com- 
mon mass of the people, they rejected now this, now that, 
dogma from the old system, while at the same time they 
retained a multitude of others, as true, which, for the same 
reasons, ought likewise to have been rejected. By this 
means, the whole of doctrinal theology was rendered so 
fluctuating and insecure, that nothing could any longer be 
said of it, as a system. Very few knew where they were. 
Having taken away confidence in the old system, in which 
the Scriptures decided every thing, without being suffi- 
ciently resolute to reject all Scriptural authority, and follow 
the dictates of reason alone, they fell into a strange kind of 
capitulation with the two ; at one time, sought to abate 
something from the Scriptures in order to satisfy reason, 
at another, rendered it so obliging as to admit the validity 
of some things which stood too obviously on the face of 
Scripture to be rejected ; and by means of this mediation 
and negociation, now looked upon reason as the rightest, 
and then the Scriptures, according as the mediator and 
negociaior felt inclined to act the interpreter or the phi- 
losopher, and the other circumstances in which be was 
placed, seemed to call for caution or to authorize licen- 
tiousness. 

Was Lessing to blame for embracing every opportunity 
to ridicule this lamentable workmanship of the illuminating 
theologians, and declare aloud, that it disgusted him and 
bore no comparison with the old consistent Orthodoxy ?* 

* Compare Lessin^'s Works, already quoted, Th. V. S. 25 f. j and Les- 
sins^'s Leben, nebst seinem noch ubrigen literarischen Nachlasse, Th. I, S. 311. 
Other men of excellent genius, who, as they were not theologians, felt them- 
selves free from restraint, have expressed the same opinion. '' What should 
we'not expect,'" says Sturz, '' from the priest, who makes known all the duties 
of benevolence as the laws of God's love, spreads abroad the terror of God's 
almighty power, and excites feelings in favor of more elevated virtue, and an- 
ticipations of a rewarding futurity, if he were now clothed with that sacred 

*6 



66 LETTER IX. 

It was utterly impossible, indeed, for me, to resolve to 
share in it, as it was necessary for me to define my know- 
ledge and reduce it to connexion. For me, therefore, 
only two courses were left. I was obliged either to reject 
the Gospel and all divine revelation, and become a strict 
Rationalist, or else to make reason subordinate to the 
Scriptures in matters of faith, and become a strict Super- 
naturalist. The former I could not do. Revelation ap- 
peared to me to have too much in its favor, to permit me 
to look upon it as error and deception. In proportion as I 
became acquainted with the contentions, contradictions, and 
errors of human reason, I learned to consider the Dehy's 
revealing his will to us, not only as a desirable act of be- 
nevolence, but as regards our wants, a matter of necessity. 
And finally, I had derived such benefit to my own heart 
from the Scriptures, to which I had adhered from my ear- 
liest youth, and so often, as I believed, experienced their 
divine power, that I should have been obliged to act against 
duty and conscience, had I resolved to break away from 
them. For me, therefore, no choice was left. I was 
obliged to give myself up to the influence of revelation, 
and, without exception, admit the truth of every thing that 
had been proved out of the Scriptures. Now the system 
of doctrines professed by the Evangelical church, appear- 
ed to me to accord far more with the Scriptures, than any 
other. It was impossible for me not to see, that it was 
connected in itself, strictly consistent, and easy to be re- 
conciled with reason, as soon as she becomes conscious of 
her bx)undaries, and refrains from meddling with indemon- 
strable assertions. It was very natural, therefore, that I 
should firmly adhere to the system of our church and de- 
liver its doctrines in the cathedral and the pulpit, without 
suffering myself to be disturbed in the least degree, by what 
was brought forward to oppose them. In so doing, how- 
ever, I did not approve of every definition and improve- 
ment which had been introduced into this system in con- 
dignity which formerly exalted religion more than it did the man ? The priest, 
however, has been degraded by wit, laughed at for believing in mysteries, 
and defamed for firmly adhering to ancient creeds. Accordingly, he strives 
against contempt, improves, explains, finds fault, and forms agreements, rise$ 
up in rebellion against symbolical servitude, and gives much to save a very 
little. Thus, the venerable ambassador of God has sunk down into a man* 
pleasing chatterer." Schriften von Sturz, Th. 1. S. 209, 210. 



LETTER IX. 67 

nexion with the demonstrable doctrines of the Scripture&y 
by the ancient theologians and polemics. It was only the 
latter, that I held fast and sought to exhibit in that connex- 
ion, which they have in the Scriptures, and which binds 
them firmly together, and renders them a consistent whole. 
With reason I could reconcile them so much the easier from 
the fact, that no scholastic system had confused my vision, 
or robbed me of the freedom of looking about me on every 
side. From a careful study of all the philosophical sys- 
tems in existence, I had returned whh a decided mistrust 
in all the speculations of human reason. In every system 
with which I had made myself acquainted, even the most 
celebrated, but especially in those which arrogantly laid 
claim to apodictical certainty, I had discovered so many 
w^eak parts, that I deemed it most advisable to declare 
myself in favor of none of them ; and in philosophy, to 
adhere to that party which advocates the right of examin- 
ing every thing. No one will wonder, therefore, that 
Kant's system, which made its appearance about this time 
with such extensive pretensions to universal authority, pro- 
duced no change in my thoughts. But a few years pass- 
ed away, before they were recognized for what they really 
were, and many who had been fooled by them at first, re- 
turned back from their error. 

From what 1 have uttered with such frankness, you will 
draw the conclusion, my dear friend, that the ground upon 
Tvhich I stand with such firmness, is divine revelation ; that 
my principles, so far as they are determined, are the fun- 
damental truths of the Gospel. To me, indeed, useful 
knowledge of every kind, is welcome. To every species 
of it, I rejoice to accede its relative importance, and that 
degree of certainty which it does or ought to possess. I 
am by no means indifferent to the efforts and investigations 
of philosophizing reason. On the other hand, I have made 
myself acquainted with them as far as possible. The 
teachings of the Gospel, however, constitute my criterion 
forjudging of every thing, the grand test, and serve as a 
leading-string to guide me in the labyrinths of human error. 
From taking this position, 1 derive more than one advan- 
tage. In particular, I can extend my knowledge around 
me on every every side ; for by so doing, I always gain 



68 



LETTER IX* 



something for the main object which 1 have in view. That 
I did well in taking this course, I have been more than 
once convinced from my own experience. I have met 
with opinions, historical assertions, whole systems, which 
had the appearance of truth, but which I was obliged to 
pronounce false, because they contradicted my views of 
Evangelical truth. Do not suppose, however, that I satis- 
fied myself with rejecting such things directly off hand. 
From the very fact that they blinded, I always made it my 
( duty to give them an impartial examination ; and bitherto, 
I have always come to the result, that they were untenable, 
and ought to be rejected for other reasons abstracted from 
the consideration, that they were at variance with the Gos- 
pel. He who has had this experience often and in mat- 
ters of importance, will look upon the Gospel more and 
more as divine truth, and believe it impossible for him to 
take a safer course than receive it as such, and regulate 
his judgment accordingly. 

So then, as you remark, the main point in my convic- 
tions is a mere faith in authority. I am not an independ- 
ent thinker, following my own thoughts and standing upon 
my own feet, but, like a minor, unable, as yet, to judge 
for himself, I adhere to the authority and declarations of 
the Scriptures. I have nothing to oppose to what you say, 
but must accede to its truth. 1 beg you to examine a lit- 
tle more closely, however, the position in which I stand, 
compared with that of the Rationalist. He believes as 
well as myself. His faith is in the declarations of reason. 
To her authority he yields a universal, unconditional obe- 
dience. My faith is in the Author of reason, because, in 
the teachings of the Gospel, I recognize divine declarations 
and revelations. Is this kind of faith less compatible with 
the dignity of human nature, than the former ?^ Besides, 
he, who, while he believes in the Gospel, acquires a know- 
ledge of the positions which human reason works out of 
herself, and leaves nothing unexamined, is called upon to 
go through more investigation and exhibit a higher mea- 
sure of independence in thinking, than he, who has either 

* " Licet locus ab auctoritate/' says the acute Thomas Aquinas, "quae 
fundatur super ratioue humana; sit infirmissimus : locus tamen ab auctoritate, 
quae fundatur super reuelatione diuina, est efficacissimus. Sumin. TheoU 
rart I. quaest. I. art. 8. 



LETTER IX. 69 

made his Rationalistic system for himself, and brought his 
investigations to a close, or else passes over from one sys- 
•tem to another, and always declares in favor of the last. 
And finally, thai that man will succeed the best as a preach- 
er, who founds every thinf^ upon the authority of God, arid 
can always appeal to revelation to prove that he utters the 
will and ex|)ress demands of Jehovah, is a matter, ray 
friend, which you must look upon as self-evident. A man 
produces an entirely different effect when he speaks in the 
name of God, from what he does, when he is obliged to 
appeal merely to the principles of reason. The great msss 
of the people, the female sex, and a large proportion of 
those who pass for learned men, can never be made inde- 
pendent thinkers. Without authority they cannot even 
stand. And can you name to me any that is belter, more 
exalted, and more generally recognized, than that of the 
Scriptures, as far as they are considered as the word ot 
God? Do they not justify themselves to such a degree 
by the extraordinary appeals which they make to the hu- 
man heart, as to leave every other authority incapable of a 
comparison with them ?* 

Here, however, I must give you a glance into my heart, 
which will, perhaps, fill you with great surprise ; but wliicb 
will completely solve for you the riddle of my unshaken 
adherence to the Gospel in general, and to the doctrines 
of our church in particular. To do it in a few words; in 
the relation in which 1 stand to God, 1 need a Saviour 2ind 
Mediator, and just such an one as Christ is. After having 
paid long and close attention to my heart and its real con- 
dition, as well as to the language of my moral feelings, I 
find myself totally unable to comprehend, how any one can 
be bold enough to rely confidently upon his own virtue in 
the presence of God, or even to expect the Grace of God 
and the forgiveness of his sins, without having received 
some express assurance from his Maker to this effect. 
The natural condition of the human heart appears to me to 
be so miserable and distracted ; 1 have found every thing 

* [With the above remarks, and those on page 62 ff., compare Tzschirner's 
Briefe, u. s. w. S. 47 — 65 3 where he makes some observations respecticg- the 
high vaunts and promises of Natiirphilosophie, its small and unsatisfying per- 
formances, and the sad effects of introducing it into the pulpit, — observations 
worthy the attentive perusal of all engaged in deep speculations.] 



70 



LETTER IX. 



denominated hurn^n virtue so very defective in myself and 
others, and so far below every thing which God may and 
must require of his rational creatures; that I cannot, and' 
never could, see how it is possible for the sinner to be ren- 
dered worthy and certain of the Grace of God, and be 
brought into better relations to him, without his help, and 
a divine contrivance for this particular purpose. That the 
guilt of sins once committed can never be diminished, 
much less taken away, by any subsequent reformation, is 
^s clear as the sun. On the other hand, it will only be 
rendered so much the greater thereby, inasmuch as the 
fact, that the man acts differently now, shows that he might 
have done so before, if he had earnestly desired to. And 
as to this reformation, however real and thorough, what is 
it? O! I appeal to every one possessed of tender, sus- 
ceptible moral feelings, and acquainted with the qualities 
of a good action, to tell me, whether it can meet with the 
approbation of the Supreme and Omniscient Judge. Will 
the best of men be able to extoll their virtue before him? 
Will not all their courage fail when examined in the pre- 
sence of their Maker .^ Will they not be obliged to con- 
fess, that the very best actions they ever performed, are 
not only entirely destitute of merit, but in addition thereto, 
so very defective and so far below every thing which God 
may and must require, that, instead of expecting complete 
justification, or, perhaps, a reward, they will have to en- 
treat for connivance and forbearance ? This humiliating 
feeling of personal unworthiness has not only not been di- 
minished in me, as I have advanced in goodness, but been 
rendered stronger and more vivid. Indeed, the defec- 
tiveness of human virtue must necessarily become more 
striking, in exact proportion as the moral sensibilities are 
purified and quickened by the progress of reformation ; for 
he, who has made advances in goodness, will be more 
pained at little faults and impurhies, which the unreforraed 
and beginners in virtue, do not even perceive, than the lat- 



ter sre at gross errors. 



Such being the language and character of my moral 
feelings, it is absolutely necessary to my tranquillity forme 
to hsve a declaration from God himself, that he is able and 
willing to forgive sin, and also a knowledge of the means 



LETTER IX. 71 

by which this can be done in a way in every respect wor- 
thy of God, and adapted to the moral nature of man. The 
divine institution, agreeably to which, through Christ and 
his death, all sinners who assent to the conditions, can be 
pardoned, seems to me to unite in itself every thing that 
can be wished for, in this respect. With it, I cannot my- 
self dispense ; for, by means of it, though conscious of my 
sins and imperfections, I have confidence in God, inas- 
much as it takes away the necessity of my obtaining the 
favor of God by my own merits, a thing impossible, and 
authorizes me to expect the love of God in Christ. My 
joy in God rests upon the assurance, that in hoping and 
praying, I can appeal, not to personal merit, for of this I 
have none, but to the merit and mediation of a person 
whom God has, in the most explicit terms, announced and 
distinguished, as the one through whom salvation can be 
conferred upon our race. That a faithful adherence to 
this supreme and adorable Saviour, is exalting to the mind ; 
that a close and intimate communion with him, exerts a 
wonderful influence in purifying the heart and leading one 
on diligently to make attainments in holiness; that daily 
occupation with him, and the inspiring contemplation of 
his exaltation and his example, prove a blessing to the 
whole internal man ; and, finally, that he who can say, 
''Nevertheless, I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,'' 
has acquired new power, and another and more exalted 
mode of existence ; — all this, every one who has, from his 
whole heart, yielded obedience to the conditions laid down 
by God, for acceptance in Christ, knows by experience ; 
and others would not understand me, should I attempt to 
tell them ever so much about it. 

But enough has been said respecting the orthodox char- 
acter of my sermons. I rejoice to leave all to their own 
opinions, and can endure to have every one follow his 
own convictions, however unlike or opposed they may be, 
to mine. But from my heart do I wish that others would 
exhibit the same reasonableness and forbearance towards 
roe, and not rise up in hostility against me, because I teach 
as my conscience obliges me to do. Let it be remember- 
ed, *' That every one of us shall give an account of him- 
self to God." The Lord will judge us all, " But other 



72 LETTER X. 

foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus 
Christ. Now if any man build upon this foundation, gold, 
silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble ; every man's 
work shall be made manifest, for the day shall declare 
it."^ Farewell. 



LETTER X 



His mode of proceeding in the invention and choice of themes — Need of phi- 
losophy, &c. — Of variety — Common-place-book of subjects — Mode of ex- 
amining historical texts — Must throw ourselves back into the age — Kinds 
of knowledge requisite — Illustrations — Aids — Didactic texts — Different 
linds of them — Mode of treatment — Illustrations — Must conceive ourselves 
in the circumstances in which these texts were vn'itten. 

My Dear Friend — 

1 will not deny, that at the close of my last letter, I 
fell somewhat into a ministerial strain. Pardon this small 
error. It very naturally resulted from the subject upon 
which I was writing. I shall guard myself hereafter 
against every thing of the kind, and confine my whole 
attention to the form and construction of my sermons. 
Here you expect me to be particular; and agreeably 
to the request of your former letter, I will, in the first 
place, give you an account of my usual mode of proceed- 
ing in the invention and choice of subjects. 

Of course, you do not here expect from me a treatise 

* [It is delightful to find Christians every where breathing forth the same 
spirit. However remotely bom and differently educated from each other, 
they evidently become one in Christ Jesus, while others are driven about by 
every wind of doctrine, and seem to have nothing or little, firm and stable. 
This remark is suggested by the close correspondence of Reinhard's views- 
with those of ProE Stuart and others, in our own country. See Stuart's Let- 
ters to the Rev. Wm. E. Channing, in various places, particularly, pp. 112 L. 



LETTER X. 73 

upon invention^ as it was called by the ancient rhetoricians, 
or the working out of a text and the several themes de- 
duced from it, as it is denominated by homiletical writers. 
I shall not write a book either upon homiletics or rhetoric. 
All that you wish to know, is, how I have discovered so 
many themes which others never thought of, and been en- 
abled to deduce more useful subjects from apparently 
barren texts, than one could have imagined them to con- 
tain. I can in a few words describe to you the method I 
usually pursued, m searching after and making choice of 
my main positions. 

In the first place I must observe, that without a knowl- 
edge of philosophy in general, and an intimate acquaint- 
ance with many parts of it in particular, as psychology 
and ethics for instance, a man never can succeed very 
well in the invention of subjects. To deduce any thing 
useful and attractive from a text, and develop it in an ap- 
propriate manner, a man must have thought much upon 
the character of human nature, its excellencies, wants, 
inclinations and necessities, as well as its duties and rights; 
— must have contemplated it in all situations and at 
every stage of improvement; — must, with untiring dili- 
gence, have availed himself of historv and experience, 
and, by these means, have collected together a great treas- 
ure of valuable materials. He, who is deficient in these 
respects, — who does not always look upon nature with 
philosophical eyes and make it his constant sttidy, should 
not wonder if he generally fails of obtaining good subjects 
for his sermons, and, in a text which has been selected for 
a discourse, finds it impossible to perceive, what, expe- 
rienced eyes discover at a single glance. 

I have to add, that the necessity I was long under, of 
preaching upon the same portions of the Gospels, some- 
times more than once a year, contributed not a little to 
awaken and quicken in me the spirit of invention.^ As 
my sermons were all printed, and my people could easily 

* [The custom of the French preachers alluded to by Dr. Blair (Tiecture 
XXIX,) of takinj? their texts from the usual lesson of the day, prevails also 
among the Lutherans of (lermaiiy. American ministers bein.; under no such 
constraint much of this letter mig^ht perhaps have been omitted. As however 
it throws some light upon the proper mode of handling texts, il is retained in 
full.] 

7 



74 - LETTER X. 

calculate for me, I was obliged to think of something neWj 
as often as I returned to the same text, and must admit, 
that this led me to the discovery of many things which 
otherwise would probably have escaped me. 

But, in truth, you will say, every minister who has to 
preach constantly from the same texts, finds himself under 
the same necessity, and yet every one does not succeed 
in discovering something new. Here, in the first place, 
let me tell you of a means of invention which I have often 
found of very excellent service. I am in the habit of 
writing down those thoughts which occur to me in reading, 
regular reflection, or incidentally, and are worthy of being 
treated of in detail in a sermon, just as they present them- 
selves to my mind at the moment, without having any par- 
ticular object in view. If then, at any time, I meet with 
difficulty in finding something appropriate in a text 
upon which I am called to preach, I recur to this cata- 
logue of interesting thoughts, in order to see whether 
some of them cannot be made to bear upon the text in 
question. This often proves to be the case ; and in this 
way, I have been led to many happy combinations, of 
which I should otherwise never have thought. 

I should observe, however, that I have never resorted to 
this method, except when I have found it difficult to obtain 
any thing useful by reflecting upon the text itself. In 
general, a text needs only to be rightly understood and 
properly investigated, in order to furnish more than one 
useful subject. Permit me to show you the method of 
examining both historical and didactical texts and work- 
ing them out, which I have found the most advantageous. 

In handling a historical text, the object of all a man's 
efforts as I conceive, should be to transfer himself to the 
historical theatre of action^ and, as vividly as possible, im- 
agine every thing to be present with all its circumstances, 
and passing as it were before his eyes. To do this, a man 
must consider every narration in its connexion with what 
precedes and succeeds ; must as accurately as possible, 
conceive of the time and place in which every thing 
happened ; must examine into the causes and occasions 
of every event ; must call to mind all the contemporary 
circumstances and effects which either stand in connexion 



LETTER X. 75 

with what a man has before him, or throw light upon it; 
and finally, must bring with him the laws of a correct his- 
torical interpretation, and take every thing in the spirit and 
sense of the times to which it belongs. 

Now if a man, guided by these general preparatory 
measures, directs his attention to the acting persons, and 
looks at the opinions, dispositions, wishes, and necessities 
they express ; if a man observes the morals and charac- 
ter they exhibit ; if a man searches after those impres- 
sions and .results which every word, every assertion, every 
step of the acting persons, produced ; and finally, if a man 
looks at the effects which such results may have produced 
in general and as a w^hole ; — if a man does all this, it is 
scarcely possible for hirn not to arrive at something which 
deserves to be farther reflected upon, and treated of in 
detail. 

While a man does all this, however, it is equally neces- 
sary for him not only to form an accurate acquaintance 
with all the circumstances and wants of his own age and 
community, but to keep himself, we may say, always full 
of them. As r,eflection is ever discovering new subjects 
well worthy of close investigation, a man must have some 
decided reason for prefering one to another. This reason 
cannot be drawn by a conscientious preacher from the 
greater ease with which one subject can be treated of, than 
another ; nor from the desire or inclination w^hich he feels 
for examining a particular theme. He must carefully se- 
lect and treat of that subject, which, in view of all the 
circumstances and well known necessities of his hearers, 
he considers as the most appropriate, and best calculated tt) 
produce useful effects upon their hearts. It is only by so 
doing, that every sermon can be rendered, as it were, a 
word spoken in season, a discourse expressly adapted to 
the occasion, and the preacher be secured against the 
error of fluttering around common-place topics, and such, 
as can do his hearers no good. 

Permit me, my dear friend, to illustrate what I have 
said, by some examples. The Gospel for the seventh 
Sunday after Trinity, Mark 8. 1 — 9, cannot be consider- 
ed as one of the miost useful portions of Scripture. From 
it, however, if treated in the manner I have described. 



76 



LETTER X. 



many very interesting subjects may be deduced. I will 
mention only tliose which I have myself drawn from it 
and worked out. In the first place, it immediately pre- 
sents us with some general siibjects of a very useful char- 
acter ; as for example : God can and will richly bless what 
is small and insignificant ; see die Sermons of 1796, The 
virtue of contenlment ^ (the multitude had nothini: to eat but 
barley bread and fishes,) is of far more importance than is 
ordinarily supposed ; see the Sermons of 18CI. l^iere 
is always something very wonderful in the manner in which 
God sustains us; see the Sermons upon Providence, 
Pred. I. How Christian benevolence should be proitised 
in times of public want ; see the Sermons of 1805. This 
subject was suggested by the scarcity then prevalent. 

Now if a man conceives of the whole transaction as 
passing before him in the manner I have just described, he 
will be able to deduce from it as r.aturally as before, sub- 
jects of equal importance. The whole affair took |:)lace 
in an uninhabited region. This leads us to the reasons, 
Why Jesus chose to collect his hearers around him in soli- 
tary regions ; see the Sermons for quickening the moral 
sensibilities,'^ Pred. XIII. It was a matter of no small dif- 
ficulty to preserve order among several thousand wen some 
days, in a retired place, without any form of police or civil 
power. As the Lord evidently maintained this order by 
the authority he then enjoyed, Jt shews us in general the 
silent influence always exerted by the presence of virtue 
upon mankind ; see the Sermons of 1795. Farther, cir- 
cumsianced as Christ was, in regard to the multitude, he 
could expect no assistance from any one hut himself. His 
disciples had no advice to give him. This gives rise to 
the very important consideration, That Christians should in 
all circumstances depend upon themselves rather than others; 
see the Sermons of 1797. The dispositions, feelings and 
designs which had induced this multitude to seek after 
Jesus, were doubtless very impure. Nevertheless, Jesus 
treated them with the greatest kindness, and his example 
in this respect should teach Christians the tenderness with 
which they ought to regard even imperfect attempts in 



* ZurScharfuug des sittlichen Gefuhls* 



LETTER X. 77 

goodness ; see the Sermons of 1800, That many disa- 
greeable consequences would have resulted from Christ's 
neglectins; to remedy the wants into which the people had 
brought themselves, by imprudently tarrying in a place in 
which no sustenance was to be had, is perfectly evident. 
At the foundation we must be constantly sustained by the 
providence of God, and this forces upon us the reflection, 
Hoiv miserable should we be^ if God did not continually 
deliver us from the effects of our own improvidence ; see 
the Sermons of 1799. The Lord, on this occasion, sat- 
isfied both corporeal and intellectual wants. This leads us 
to The connexion which God has instituted between the ne- 
cessity of sustaining the body by nourishment^ and the for- 
mation and improvement of the mind ; see the Sermons of 
1802. Jt is evident that the apostles, notwithstanding 
their embarrassment, did not request Christ to exert his 
miraculous power. Hence, it is highly deserving our at- 
tention^ that the apostles never required miracles of their 
Lord ; see the Sermons of 1803. The people by their 
anxiety to enjoy the intercourse and instruction of Jesus, 
vv^ere brought into the danger of suffering the greatest 
want, from which, however, they were happily saved ; and 
so also, there are times ivhich we may devote to appropri- 
ate and pious exercises without suffering any temporal dis- 
advantage : seethe Sermons of 1808. The Lord kept 
the people by him for three days, and finally ended his 
instructions not only at the right time, but in the best man- 
ner. From him, therefore, we should learn, that much de- 
pends upon our knowing how to end every good action in 
a right manner ; see the Sermons published at Wittem- 
berg, Th. 11. Pred. X. 

When the Gospel for the twelfth Sunday after Trinity, 
comes up, Mark 7 :31 — 37, the minister usually expends 
all his zeal upon the last words : '^ He hath done all things 
well," transforming them into a common-place topic, though 
they are far from constituting one, and making them intro- 
duce various remarks respecting the beneficent goodness of 
God and Jesus Christ. He, however, who, by the means 
above recommended, throws himself into the circumstances ' 
related by the Evangelist, will find many other things in 
ihem to consider. The history itself will immediately 
*7 



78 LETTER X. 

lead him to reflect upon the fate of those vnfortunaie per** 
sons^ to whom nature has given defective bodies. See the 
Sermons of 1801. The unfortunate person who was 
brought to Christ could neither hear nor speak. This 
leads us to the general subjects : How Christians should 
regard the faculty of speech ; see the Sermons of 1 805 ; 
and a true Christian disposition must be exhibited in con-- 
versntion ; see the Sermons of 1797. It was misappre- 
hension which led the people to blaze abroad the miracles 
of Jesus, in direct opposition to his command. This fur- 
nishes an occasion for describing Christian conduct in re- 
gard to the misapprehensions of common life. This theme 
I handled in a sermon delivered in 1792, but not yet print- 
ed. In 1794, I spoke from this same passage respecting 
the different impressions ivhich our good acnons usually 
m^ike upon others^ a subject suggested by the effects of 
Christ's miracle upon the multitude. This sermon is not 
printed. The Lord did not ^vish to nave the miracle which 
he performed, spread abroad. Christians should also do 
good with a zeal whfch operates in silence ; see the Ser- 
mons of 1796, It is very apparent, that Jesus conducted 
very differently in concealing this miracle, from what he 
did, when he performed his wonders by a word of his power. 
His conduct, therefore, in healing this deaf-mute, merits 
special attention; see the Sermons of 1804. In partic- 
ular, the Lord employed more ceremonies in this case, 
than he had done in others. This leads us to the duty of 
imparting a certain degree of solemnity to many oj our ac- 
tions ; see the Sermons published at Wiitemberg, Th. IL 
Pred. XIII. If now we reflect upon what is said at the 
beginning of the passage, that Jesus had returned from 
another region, into which he had been driven by the 
hatred of the Jewish officers at Jerusalem, and hence, was 
obliged to avoid exciting any thing like curiosity, we shall 
not only immediately discover the reason why, in this case, 
he so earnestly interdicted the publication of his miracle, 
but be astonished at his zeal to do good to his people, 
which, notwithstanding the ingratitude of his fellow-citizens, 
broke forth again, as soon as he returned. This gives oc- 
casion for exhibiting the perseverance with which Jesus did 
good; see the Sermons of 1808. 



LETTER X. 



7§ 



Among all the historical portions of the Gospels, how- 
ever, upon which one is ordinarily obliged to preach, there 
is none shorter, more barren, and less adapted to the day 
on which it must be explained, than the text for new year's 
day, Luke 2:21. One would suppose, that without in- 
dulging in considerations in nowise connected with the 
text, he would be greatly troubled to finxl any thing in it 
edifying and appropriate to speak from, only a few times; 
especially so, as what is said, is to be adapted to the begin- 
ning of the year. Permit me, therefore, my dear friend, 
to show you the usefulness of my mode of invention as 
above described, by applying it to this text, and thence 
deducing a series of themes which I have worked out. I 
will bring them forward in the order in w^hich the sermons 
written from them, were delivered. 

As circumcision completed Christ's entrance into life, and 
marked his entrance upon his civil and ecclesiastical re- 
lations, so at Wiitemberg, in 1785, I spoke from the posi- 
tion : Reflections vpon our entrance into life, constitute a 
useful preparation for our entrance itpon a new year ; see 
the Sermo'ns printed at Wittemberg, Th. 1. Pted. I. Jesus, 
having, by means of circumcision, been brought into con- 
nexion with the ecclesiastical community of his nation, 
submitted to very w'eighty duties and obligations. Ac- 
cordingly, in 1793, I sliowed, How, as we enter vpon a 
new year, we should recollect, that by multiplying our con- 
nexions, we multiply our sorrows. This sermon is not 
printed. As the reception of Jesus Into the community of 
the Jewish Church, was attended with great advantages, so 
the following year, I explained the position, On entering 
upon a new year, tve should think oj the good, God accom- 
plishes for us, by means of human society. This sermon 
is not printed. In the very morning of life, Jesus found 
that he had been consecrated by circumcision to the cove- 
nant of God. This gave occasion, in the year 1795, for 
showing, How the morning of a new year should be conse-^ 
crated by a grateful recollection of the benefits conferred 
upon us by God, in the morning of life. Only eight days 
after his birth, Jesus felt the important infjuence of time, 
became a member of the Jewish nation, and thus obtained 
a particular direction for his education and his destiny. 



LETTER X. 

This led me, in the year 1796, to the rich position, that 
we are the children of 4ime^ under the guidance of God. 
Jesus, on being circumcised, received his name. This 
thought very naturally gave rise to the position, that we 
shall spend this year the bcstj if we esteem our v.ame of as 
much importance^ as true Christians should. This theme 
was treated of, in the year 1797. Circumcision marked 
the reception of a person into the bosom of the Israelitish 
church. This, in 1793, furnished an occasion /o7' remind- 
ing Christians of their reception into the bosom of Chris fs 
Church, From the unwavering faith, with which, in joy- 
ful hope, the mother of Jesus, notwithstanding her severe 
poverty and sufferings, rested upon what had been told her 
at the very outset, by the angel, respecting her son, occa- 
sion was taken, in 1799, to describe the victory of hope 
over suffering, and to apply the whole to entering upon a 
neiv year. The year ISGO, closed the century. Now, as 
the birth and circumcision of Jesus closed the preceding 
age of the world, and commenced a new one, entirely 
different from the former, so, from the peculiarities which 
Jesus imparted to his century, occasion was taken to show, 
How, by a serious retrospection of the peculiarities of the 
departed century, ive should pj^ep are for the last year of it. 
The following year commenced the new century. The 
painful, and, in respect to the hfe and preservation of a 
new-born infant, critical change, through which Jesus was 
called to pass, w^hen only eight days old, and by which he 
was immediately bound to the performance of very w^eighty 
duties, furnished an opportunity /or exhortations to Chris- 
tian earnestness in entering upon a new century. At the 
beginning of the year 1802, the circumstance, that much 
of great importance happened to Jesus during the first 
eight days of his life, and time, as it were, hurried away 
with him, was taken up ; and hence, the fleetness of time 
was made the subject oj- consideration. It was, indeed, a 
painful, but a benevolent duty, which subjected a child, 
born of Jewish parents, to circumcision, when eight days 
old. From this was drawn the position, Hoiv much rea- 
son have we, on entering a new year, to bless the constraints 
of duty. The low circumstances in which Jesus found 
himself at the time of his circumcision, and the laborious 



LETTER X. 81 

duties heaped upon him, by means of this ordinance, led, 
in 1805, to a consideration of the serious aspect which this 
life presents to evenj unconstrained observer. By means 
of circumcision, Jesus was introduced inij relations entire- 
ly new, and, in liis circumstances, unavoidable. The in- 
habitants of Saxony al^o found themselves, at the com- 
mencement of 1807, introduced into new relaiions by 
means of an important and encouraging peace, which had 
been concluded on tlie last week of the preceding year. 
Serious reflections upon the new and unavoidable relations 
into which the new year had introduced, us, therefore^ seem-- 
ed to be the most suit able to the circumstances of the occU' 
sion, though all reference to particular political relations, 
was avoided, as im[)roper. And, finally, from the fact, 
that he who was circmncised, had a comse of life before 
him full of painful duiies, and needed much resoluteness to 
perform them, occasion was taken, in the year 1808, to 
speak of the presence ff mind with which ive should meet 
the future. 

You will observe, my dear friend, that, to discover these 
subjects, nothing farther was necessary, than to transfer 
myself, as much as possible, to the circumstances describ- 
ed in the text, and ihiis contemplate them in their whole 
connexion, and all their bearings upon the person and fate 
of Jesus; and, at the same lime, with a steady reference 
to the new year, and the existing wants of my liearers. 
Now, he who proceeds in this way, whenever a historical 
text comes up; — wl/o, if I may so speak, knows well how 
to find his position in two different worlds, that of his text 
and his own, will always succeed in discovering interest- 
ing themes. To such a man something will always pre- 
sent itself, which harmonizes equally well wiili his text and 
the necessities of his hearers. 

With this, a man, who would throw himself, as he ought 
to do, into all the circumstances of every event, and reflect 
upon them with success, must also connect a dil'gent study 
of Biblical history in general, and of Evangelical history 
in particular. A frequent and connected reading of the 
Evangelists, a careful comparison of their accounts, an 
accurate knowledge of the geography and natural history 
of Palestine, and an inijmate acquaintance with the cir- 



82 LETTER X. 

cumstances and affairs of the age to which the whole 
Evangelical history belongs, can hardly fail to lead a man 
to rich views and subjects ; especially, if, at the same time, 
he calls to his aid such works as treat of Evangelical his- 
tory in general, or of particular parts of it, with acuteness 
and happy effect. Among the ancient writers, there is 
none, in my opinion, more deserving of recommendation 
in this respect, than Chrysostom. His homilies upon the 
Gospels contain many excellent views and important hints, 
which are expressly adapted to lead a man on to farther 
reflection. Among modern writers, no one has made bet- 
ter preparation for the minister who wishes for interesting 
remarks upon Evangelical history, than Hess,^ upon it, in 
his well known work. In exhibiting the connexion, the 
full purpose, the rich instruction, and the impressiveness 
and dignity of this history, he evinces an altogether pecu- 
liar tact, which guides him with uncommon success, and 
often enables him to make the most important discoveries 
in the smallest circumstances. The Commentary of Pau- 
lus upon the Gospels, also exhibits many interesting views 
and combinations, but they are so interwoven and obscur- 
ed with a multitude of constrained and improbable supposi- 
iions, as to be undiscoverable without a great deal of labor. 
And now, as to didactical texts. The matter to be treat- 
ed of in handling such texts, whether theoretical or prac- 
tical, is sometimes in such a form and of such a char- 
acter, as to leave a man no choice, but to force itself upon 
him as the principal subject of his discourse, if he would 
not directly contradict the text itself In this case, every- 
thing, as I think, depends upon, whether all that is requi- 
site for a fundamental treatment of this given subject, is 
furnished in the text, and can be deduced, from it, without 
feebleness or constraint. If so, a man must confine him- 
self to the text, and, by a natural or free analysis, draw 
every thing from it. In this way, he will gain from the 
ease with which every thing is comprehended and im- 
pressed upon the memory, and the manner in which the 
hearers are introduced to the Scriptures and led profitably 
to read them and reflect upon them. If not, a man should 
bring his subject as far as possible in connexion with the 

^ [Ueber die Lehreii; Thalei) und Schicksale unsers Herrn.] 



LETTER X. 83 

words of the text, and then supply all deficiences from his 
own meditations. The sermon delivered on the first fast 
of the year 1809, is an example of the first kind. The 
subject of it as well as all the subdivisions, being drawn from 
the text itself. The sermon which was prepared for the 
second fast in 1808, and treats upon lukeimrmness in reli- 
gion^ is an example of the second. Every thing belong- 
ing to the subject itself could not be drawn from the textj 
but it could be easily suppHed and brought in contact with 
it. There is also a case, in which the subject is so pre- 
scribed as not to permit the selection of another which is 
appropriate, especially when the texts are short and com- 
posed of a few words or verses. More extended didacti- 
cal texts admit of a greater range in the mode of treat- 
ment. I pass on therefore to their consideration. 

It is well known, that most of the lessons taken from 
the epistles, constitute such copious didactical texts. There 
are however, even among them, two classes of texts, to 
be distinguished from each other ; such as are wholly de- 
voted to a single subject, and such as comprise several. 
To the first class for instance, belong the epistle for the 
Sunday Esto mihi, 1 Cor. 13, in which the exvellencies 
of Christian charity are extolled, and the epistle for 
the eleventh Sunday after Trinity, 1 Cor. 15: 1 — 10, 
which treats altogether of the resurrection of Christ, In 
handling such texts, if a man prefers not to select a single 
circumstance, and, omiting all the rest, enlarge upon it 
from his own meditations, (a mode of sermonizing which 
greatly facilitates the minister's progress, but prevents 
him from doing ample justice to his text,) he must ad- 
here firmly to the main contents of the text, and carry 
out the given subject in a natural, or a free analysis. 
The method of doing this, agreeably to the natural order 
of the text, may be seen, by consulting a sermon upon a 
text taken from one of the epistles and delivered in 1806, 
on the Sunday Esto mihi. The epistle for the eleventh 
Sunday after Trinity, on the other hand, must, if one wish- 
es to explain the principal thought it contains, the impor- 
tance of the resurrection of Jesus, he subjected to a free 
analysis ; a process, which is illustrated by a sermon de- 
livered this same year, upon this portion of Scripture. 



84 LETTER X. 

The minister, however, has to contend with far more dif- 
ficuhies, in liandling those didactical lexis which contain as 
it were a collection of subjects which do not properly be- 
long together. Most of the sermons upon texts selected 
from the epistles, will show any man who examines them, 
the advantages to be derived from selecting one of the 
subjects contained in such a text and neglecting all the 
rest. This class of texts is comm.only treated of agreea- 
bly to this very easy method. If however a man wishes 
to do more justice to his text and employ it in its whole 
extent, he must endeavor to obtain a general head under 
which all the particulars of it can be conveniently arrang- 
ed in an easy and agreeable connexion. The mode 
of doing this, I have endeavored to show, in a sermon 
upon a text taken from one of the epistles and deliv- 
ered in the year 1806. As this manner of handling 
texts taken from the epistles, has been well treated, and ju- 
diciously and acutely explained, especially by the Rev. 
Mr. Nebe, the only fault with whose essay upon the sub- 
ject 1 have to find, is, his extravagant praise of myself,* 
you will permit me, my friend, to confine myself to a very 
few remarks. 

Many a text which appears very barren in itself consid- 
ed, is rendered very rich and productive, as soon as it is 
connected with a general subject, drawn from an extended 
view of it and the connexion in which it stands. I have 
handled the difficult epistle for the Sunday of Laetare, 
Gal. 4 : 21 — 31, in this way; audit is evident at first 
glance, that the principal subject of my discourse is per- 
fectly agreeable to the text, and yet sufficiently interesting, 
to be treated of in detail. 

What I said a little back, respecting the necessity of 
transferring one's self to the circumstauces of time and 
place connected with the text, and conceiving them to be 
passing before his eyes, in order to obtain correct views re- 
specting it, is also true with regard to didactical texts. If 
for instance, a man is able to imagine all the circumstances 
present under which an apostle wrote a text, taken from 

* This essay is to be found in ihe third part of the 25ih volume of the Neuci 
Journal fttr Hrediger, S. 257 ff. 



LETTER X. 85 

one of his epistles, it will be easy for him to discover the 

general truth to which the particular event narrated, belongs; 

and by abstracting this truth from it, he will be able to make 

a profitable use of the various parts and representations of 

^ the text. The Sermon deliverecf on the eleventh Sunday 

m after Trinity, from the Epistle 1 Cor. 9 ; 6 — 13, affords 

p the best illustration of this point. 

This lively conceiving of the circumstances to be present, 
under which the apostles wrote their letters and sent them 
to the churches, is also adapted to lead a man to general 
ideas under which to arrange and connect together in an 
appropriate manner, all the various contents of a text. 
The twelfth chapter of the epistle of Paul to the Chris- 
tians at Rome, is well known to. be divided into three les- 
sons, which must be explained on the first, second, and 
third Sunday after the feast of Epiphany. At the first 
glance, this chapter appears to contain a multitude of ad- 
monitions and moral precepts having but litde connexion 
with each other, and that, altogether of an incidental char- 
acter. If however a man imagines himself altogether in 
the condition of the apostle ; if he asks, why the apostle 
made exacdy these suggestions and admonitions and no 
others ; if he only endeavors to ascertain, whether they 
had reference to the condition of Christians in that place 
and their relations to the other parts of the world, it will 
soon be made to appear, that the object which the apostle 
had before him, was, the peculiar and decided character 
which the Gospel gave to those who embraced it ; thus 
rendering them the choicest men of the age. If any one 
comprehends this general idea, he will discover the order 
and connexion which prevails, at a single glance. He will 
perceive, that in the first lesson. Christians are distinguish- 
ed from the rest of the world by being members of a 
church; in the second, by their noble personality ; and in 
the third, by their excellencies. 

But enough, upon this subject. I must ask your par- 
don, my dear friend, for having entered into such a de- 
tailed explanation of my usual manner of inventing themes. 
Had you known how talkative I should be upon this sub- 
ject, you would scarcely have mentioned it. If however, 
8 



86 LETTER XI. 

I have said any thing which will be of use to young min- 
isters, I am certain before hand of your indulgence* 
Farewell. 



LETTER XI 



Many object to the logical arrangement of sermons — Answered — The ar- 
rangement should not be concealed — Points out faulty arrangements in his 
sermons — ^Warns young preachers against too great attention to arrange- 
ment — Against uniformity of arrangement. 

My Dear Friend — 

You are right in expecting me now to give you a more 
extensive account of the arrangement and construction of 
my sermons. 

I have already told you how I was led to the habit of 
planning my sermons with great strictness and precision, 
according to the rules of logic. This close and sometimes 
almost painful adherence to order and arrangement, from 
the manner in which my intellectual powers were formed 
and developed, became to me, as you will observe, like a 
second nature. The perverseness cf my memory, of 
which I have already spoken, rendered it very difficult for 
me to get words and phrases by heart, or any thing but a 
strictly connected and methodically arranged series of 
thoughts. I was obliged, therefore, as a matter of necessi- 
ty entirely independent of my will, to pay attention to or- 
der. And finally, having, as I told you above, after many 
years of experience, found it of great utility for a man to 
make his hearers acquainted with the several prij^cipal 
steps by which his discourse advances, I am convinced, 
that upon the whole it is necessary and beneficial for him, 
to give every sermon a logical arrangement and a firmly 



LETTER XI. t37 

connected and easily remembered plan, in order that thus, 
attentive hearers may know distinctly of what the discourse 
treats, and be able to give an account of it after it is de- 
livered. 

I am well aware, that objections have been made to this 
manner of sermonizing, Many preachers who would fain 
be looked upon as great orators, are of tlie opinion, that 
it is at variance with the laws of eloquence, to bind one's 
self in logical fetters, and altogether incompatible with that 
free soaring of thought, that fiery vehemence, with which 
the orator must express himself. I have only to reply, 
that strict order in a discourse is not only consistent with 
the idea of genuine eloquence which I drew from the an- 
cients and stated above, but absolutely indispensable to it. 
Have not those gentlemen then, who would fain be consid- 
ered as Demostheneses and Ciceros in the pulpit, (for I take 
it for granted that they have made tliemselves familiar 
with these wonderful men and read their works for them- 
selves,) attentively observed with what accuracy, art, and 
constant reference to the specific object before them, they 
arranged their discourses, and, by disposing of the several 
parts agreeably to their relative importance, endeavored, 
by the happiest means, to render them useful and produc- 
tive of the intended effect ? Of the particular rules for 
arrangement laid down by all rhetoricians, and the earnest- 
ness with which attention to order is recommended, I will 
here say nothing. In general, however, people are ac- 
quainted with the so called fiery and overpowering elo- 
quence of the ancients, only by hearsay ; and hence, they 
confound it with the irregular, half-poetical, and chatter- 
ing declamations of the ivouldbe orators of modern dmes, 
which rush as it were from one thing to another, and would 
cease to be overpowering, that is, puzzling, if reduced to 
logical order. And who, let me ask, among modern ora- 
tors, has paid stricter and more careful attention to order, 
than the most celebrated preachers, as Saurin, Bourda- 
loue, Massillon, Blair, for instance, and others ; and yet 
no one accuses these men of being destitute of vehemence 
and strength. Whether we look therefore to the nature 
of the case or to the best examples of every age, it is as 
clear as the sun, that the rides of oratory not only permit 



88 LETTER XI. 

an accurate arrangement of what a man has to say, but 
absolutely demand it. 

But a sermon, continues one, should not consist of dry 
speculation, or cold instruction for the intellect. Whatev- 
er a man says in the church should excite and cherish re- 
ligious feeling,— should operate upon the heart and awak- 
en pious emotions, — should exalt the hearers above the 
affairs of time and sense, and fill them with a holy ardor for 
what is divine, and eternal. Now,vvhat is less adcipted to 
effect this great object, than a scholastic declamation care- 
fully cut out and arranged according to the rules of art } 

In reply to this, in the first place, it may be observed, 
that to impart instruction has at all times and with justice, 
been looked upon, as the principal object of preaching ; 
and hence, the preacher has been called the teacher of 
the Gospel. He who banishes instruction from the pulpit 
and attempts to reduce every thing to the excitement of 
emotion, robs the ministerial offjce of a great part of its 
usefulness^ and deprives the great mass of the people of 
almost every opportunity for the enlargement and correc- 
tion of their religious knowledge. Moreover, I must abso- 
lutely deny the possibility of a man's exciting religious 
feeling and rendering it snlutary and productive ofexjilted 
effects, otherwise than by commencing with convincing in- 
struction and taking the way through the intellect to the 
heart. All his efforts to raise emotion by operating upon 
the imagination, will result in inflaming it and enkindling 
a wild-fire, which can prove of no advantage to genuine 
piety, and may positively injure it. A religious emotion, to 
be salutary and improving, and in a rational and profitable 
manner effect the exaltation of the mind, must be founded 
upion a lively perception of important truths vividly repre- 
sented. Indeed, it is impossible to conceive of a discourse, 
which shall in reality take hold of, awaken and inspire the 
man, and prepare the way for, and raise, the emotions of 
the heart, without instruction. Now as this instruction 
will produce the most effect, if delivered with clearness 
and proper arrangement, it is impossible to see why strict 
method should not be combined with the object of affect- 
ing the heart. 

While you are meditating upon a subject, then, some 



LETTER XI. 89 

one will say, let every thing be arranged in its proper 
place ; but when you come to write it out and dress up 
this skeleton with skin and flesh, carefully conceal the va- 
rious parts from the audience addressed, and then, their 
eyes will not discover a skeleton without spirit and life. 

Let me tarry a while at the image which lies at the foun- 
dation of this remark. Nature does, indeed, cover up the 
bony fabric of a beautiful body with tender parts of vari- 
ous kinds, and thereby impart to it those powerful charms 
by which it allures the beholder ; but does she, in so doing, 
reduce it to a mass of flesh, and make it impossible for us 
any longer to distinguish its single parts and members, dis- 
cover their relation to each other, or point out their joints ? 
On the other hand, is not this bony fabric, which constitutes 
the firm basis of the whole, so completely visible, that one 
can readily see where each member begins and ends, and 
how they are all connected together; and is it not this ap- 
propriate and natural compactness and these regular pro- 
portions, which render a beautiful form so pleasing? Now, 
to continue the image employed, a discourse, the whole 
organization, and the skeleton of whose thoughts are con- 
cealed by the manner in which it is written out, and the 
language in which it is clothed, will not constitute a beau- 
tiful body, full of life and motion, but can be looked upon, 
as nothing more than an unformed and helpless mass of 
flesh, which cannot be made into any thing, or be reckon- 
ed among any known class of forms. This, indeed, is 
the impression which such discourses ordinarily leave be- 
hind them.. One who listens to them, hears much that is 
beautiful, but he cannot tell definitely in what it consists, 
and is unable to reduce it to any clear and distinct shape. 
I cannot persuade myself that such discourses ever accom- 
plish any good. 

Pardon my prolixity, my dear friend, in speaking of 
this subject. You agree with me, in the opinion, that 
every good sermon must be founded upon a correct, close, 
logical connexion, and have often told me that you were 
highly pleased with the particularity with which my ser- 
mons are generally composed, in this respect. I feel my- 
self, however, under so much the greater obligations, not 
only honestly to point out some errors into which I have 
*8 



90 LETTER XT. 

fallen in regard to arrangement, but expressly to guard 
young ministers against them. 

Far oftener than 1 could wish, the fundamental divisions 
of my sermons are such as can in no wise be justified by 
the rules of logic ; or, to express myself more correctly^ 
instead of dividing the theme itself, 1 have often arbitrarily 
connected with it, positions which it did not contain. The 
subject of the sixth sermon, for instance, of the first part 
of the sermons published at Wittemberg, is the following : 
How shall a man conduct, when, in his religions inquiries^ 
he is led to strange opinions^ Now, the first division 
contains considerations rjespecting the nature and charac- 
ter of strange opinions, and the second shows how a man 
should conduct himself, when he is led to such opinions. 
Now, it is evident, at first glance, that this is not a (h'vision 
of the subject, because the pretended second division com- 
prehends the whole theme, in which the first is not con- 
tained. In order to comprehend these two divisions, the 
theme should have been expressed in more general terms. 
If, for instance, the discourse had been. Respecting opin- 
ions in general which have something strange in them., then, 
the first division would properly have been employed in 
explaining their nature and character, and the second, in 
treating of them, and giving them a critical examination. 
The twelfth sermon of the same volume, is headed : Warn- 
ings against false conscientiousness, and has three divi- 
sions ; the^r5^ explains the nature of this error ; the second, 
its signs and effects; and the third gives the reasons why 
it should be avoided. In this case, the two first divisions 
are not contained in the theme, according to which, I was 
merely to bring forward warnings against this error, while 
the third is the theme itself. Had the theme been ex- 
pressed thus : Respecting false conscientiousness, then the 
three preceding divisions would have sustained a proper 
relation to it; and I should have had to consider tl)e na- 
ture of false conscientiousness, its characteristics, and its 
injurious effects. The third sermon for the year 1798, 
treats of the following subject : From the unexpected dis- 
covery of good qualities in others, we should draw nourish- 
ment for our own philanthropy. As this position is a the- 
orem which required proof, it was incapable of division^ 



LETTER XI. 91 

and admitted of nothing more than an enumeration of the 
reasons brought forward in its support. 1 liave divided it, 
however, and, contrary to all the rules of logic, in tl)e first 
division^ given illustrations of the unexpected discovery of 
good qualities in others, of which, however, there is no in- 
timation in the theme itself; and, in the second^ done the 
only thing that ought to have been done, brought forward 
reasons in proof of the main position. To adduce one 
more example: The eighth sermon of the second volume 
of the sermons pubhshed at Wittemberg, treats of the po- 
sition : Of what importance should ice deem the thought^ 
that eternity constitutes the exterior bound of every thing 
unstable. In dividing it, I enter into an examination of 
the meaning, truth, and importance of this position. This, 
however, is not a logical division, for the j^r^^ and second 
heads are not contained in the theme, while the third con- 
stitutes the theme itself. It would have been no more 
than tolerable, had the theme expressed nothing but the 
thought in general, without any reference lo its importance. 
The examples now brought forward will be sufficient to 
designate the error I had in view. In them, as every one 
will see, I have so obviously contradicted the rules of logic 
in my divisions, as to be incapable of excuse. That one 
should occasionally fall into this error, in spile of effort to 
the contrary, is to be expected ; but I have fallen inio it 
so often, that I am ashamed of it. Any one who wishes 
for more instances of the same kind, may examine the 
second sermon of the second volume of the sermons pub- 
lished at Wittemberg, the seventh of the sermons of 1797, 
the sixth and the thirty-seventh of those of the year i798, 
and the forty-third of the year 1799. Such being my 
faults in this respect. I feel under so much the greater ob- 
ligations to guard others against them. 

Another fault exhibited in many of my sermons, is far 
too anxious an effort to divide them perfectly methodical- 
ly, and connect all their parts closely together. From one 
of my preceding letters, you have aheady learned, my dear 
friend, how 1 came by this stiff, scholastic habit, and why 
I have retained it so long.* I cannot, by any means, re- 
commend it for imitation ; in part, because such laborious 

*_See letter eigrhtb. ^ 



m 



LETTER XI. 



preparations sre not necessary for accomplishing the rnalii 
object of preaching, and in part, and especially, because it 
may be productive of evil, in case a man has to do with 
common hearers, who are unpractised in thinking. Ex- 
amples of this too great particularity in defining and classi- 
fying, are to he met with especially in my old sermons; 
in those which I have written of late years, I have endeav- 
ored to avoid it, without, I hope, running into the error of 
handling the subjects which came up, in a less thorough 
manner. Even here, also, for the sake of clearness, it will 
be necessary for me to illustrate w^iat I mean, by a few 
examples. Compare, therefore, the fourth sermon of the 
first volume of the sermons published at Wittemberg, 
which treats of Power to control the imagination ; \he Jirst 
division of which resembles a regularly composed and 
methodically divided fragment of a treatise upon psychol- 
ogy. The same remark holds true of the^r^^ division of 
the seventh sermon of the same volume ; for of what use 
are all those illustrations respecting the nature, classes, and 
origin, of pious emotions? As every body knows what is 
meant by pious emotions in general, could not every thing 
necessary have been said in a few words or periods? In 
the eleventh sermon of the second volume, the explana- 
tion given of the manner in which God exhibits the inter- 
nal worth of creatures by external signs, is far too circum- 
stantial and scholastic, and all who read it, will directly feel, 
that every thing upon this part of the subject, might have 
been said in fewer words, and far more natural language, 
without doing any injury to the thoroughness of the view. 
In the first Whitsuntide sermon of the year 1798, which 
treats of spiritual experience, in the^r^^ part, far too much, 
and not altogether appropriate effort is made, by way of 
preparation, in what is said with such detail respecting 
general and moral experience, inasmuch as the idea of 
spiritual experience would have had sufficient clearness, 
without all these introductory explanations. The twenty- 
seventh sermon of 1799 has not only the error formerly 
alluded to, of not being logically and correctly divided, but 
in the first part, is burdened with illustrations of such ideas 
as are generally known, and should have been only briefly 
touched. That in writing out a sermon, every grand idea 



LETTER XI. 93 

should be rendered clear by correct definitions, is perfect- 
ly evident; otherwise, a man will not master his e^iibject, 
and speak it with the requisite application. But iliis logi- 
cal and preparatory labor does not belong to the sermon 
itself, in which every thing must be intelligibly represent- 
ed, w^ithout any pedantic analysis of the subject. Young 
preachers should be warned to guard so much the more 
against this error, from the fact, that a man pleases him- 
self in the thing, from the appearance which it gives him 
of philosophical acuteness, and the opinion in which he in- 
dulges, that it will increase his authority.* 

Finally, I cannot deny, that far too much uniformity 
prevails in the arrangement or division of my sermons ; an 
objection which has already, at different limes, been made 
against them. Tiiis uniformity originated, in part, in the 
nature of the thing. A large proportion of subjects must 
be divided alike, if treated in the best and most natural 
manner; atid a man will fall into ariificialness, or fail ta 
do them justice, if he divides them in any otlier wry. The 
nature of the case, for example, requires a man, in every 
good sermon he preaches, to instruct the intellect with re- 
ference to every thing upon which he speaks, and then ap- 
ply the whole to the improvement of the heart and life ; or^ 
which is the same thing, the first part should be theoreti- 
cal, the second practical. It is impossible, therefoie, to 
avoid the frequent recurrence of this mode of dividing a 
sermon, and hence, it cannot be blamed. The same is 
likewise true of certain trichotomies which are too natural 
not to be often employed. It is veiy natural for him who 
has to speak upon an interesting sribject, to eTplnin, prove^ 
and apply. He who treats of an important duty, must, in 
like manner, explain it, and prove it, and lead the way to 
its practice. He who recommends a virtue, must give a 
clear notion of it, speak of its importance, and show by 
what exercises one can make it his own, &:c. In such 
cases, the principal divisions are, in a manner, already 
given, and in handling such subjects, a man injures them 
rather than otherwise, if he attempts to divide them in any 
other manner. 

* Hence, Greiling is perfectly correct, in warning ministers ao^ainst a blind 
imitation of my sermons in this respect. Tbeorie der Populariiat, S. 113 aad 



94 



LETTER XI. 



I will not, by any means, deny, however, that the divis- - 
ions and plans of my sermons are frequently uniform, when ■ 
there was room for choice in the arrangement ; and hence, 
when the train of thought would have admitted of greater 
variety. This was not only correctly remarked upon some 
years since, by the Rev. Mr. Linde, the author of the in- 
structive work entitled : " Reinhard and Ammon, or pBr- 
allel sermons as a contribution to Homiletics, particular- 
ly to arrangement and composition,"^ but on p. 79 fF., ac- 
companied with many interesting reflections, of quite an 
indulgent character as regards myself. This uniformity in 
arrangement is well founded, if it originates in a kind of 
inclination for symmetry, which exerted so much the more 
influence upon myself, from the fact that it proved so ad- 
vantageous to my memory, enabling me easily to call to 
mind those parts which were thus accurately proportioned. 
That I ever made symmetry, however, an object of atten- 
tion, at the expense of the subject itself; that, for instance, 
1 ever cut away parts which belonged to the subject, or 
introduced parts entirely foreign from it, m order to have 
more or less divisions or sub-divisions than I deemed ne- 
cessary to the harmony of the whole, is, at least, a thing 
which I am not conscious of ever having done. Hence, 
instances are to be found in which this symmetry is neglect- 
ed, as the subject I was at work upon, required something 
else, and Mr. Linde, on the 82d page, has brought for- 
ward such an instance. Hence, in my fast sermons, two 
of which usually treat upon the same text, the second fre- 
quently takes a course entirely different from the first, in- 
asmucl) as the subject which it handles, which is an appli- 
cation of the theory explained in the first, either required 
or admitted a different arrangement. 

In view of all that has now been said, I must request 
young preachers not to regard every thing symmetrical in 
my sermons, as an excellency worthy of imitation without 
the exercise of great caution. It should be so regarded 
only when this uniformity of divisions and sub-divisions is 
suggested by the subject itself, and far more radical and 
natural, than any other would be. Where this is not the 
case, — where a free division of the subject appears to 

* Reinhard und Ammon oder Predigten ParallelC; K6nlgsb.l800. 



LETTER XII. 95 

have the advantage of enabling a man to treat it in a more 
thorough mannerjOr introduce a greater variety into his dis- 
course, it should certainly be preferred. My later sermons 
do in reality exhibit a greater degree of variety, than my 
others. At least, I have endeavored to be guided in their 
arrangement, by the subject selected and the principal di- 
visions which naturally belonged to it, rather than an incli- 
nation to symmetry and an artificial admeasurement of di- 
visions and sub-divisions. But enough of this thing. Per- 
mit me, my dear friend, in my next letter, to give you 
some account of the composition and execution of my 
sermons, and drav^^ these confessions to a close. Fare- 
well.* 



LETTER XII 



Speaks of the composition of his Sermons — Their defects — Not adapted lo 
country congregations — Examples — Difference of ancient and modern el- 
oquence — Has used some figures of speech too often — Failed of easy tran- 
sitions — Of a correct use of pronouns — Criticisms — Of publishing a selec- 
tion of his Sermons. 

My DtAR Friend — 

There is one other subject to speak of, namely the 
composition of my sermons, or vs^hat the ancient rhetori- 
cians called elocution ; and hence, their style. It is a 
subject of which much might be said. You m\\ permit 
me, however, to treat it with brevity, and take notice only 

* [Many excellent remarks upon the arrangement of Reinhard's sermons 
might here be added from oiherS; particularly Tzschirner's Hriefe, &c. but 
brevity forbids. This last work upon the whole subject of these letters, is well 
worthy of being read. Some farther notice will be taken of R/s Sermons in 
Part Second.] 



96 LETTER Xir. 

of their defects or imperfections in this respect, or at least, 
of what 1 do not wish to have imitated before mixed as- 
semblies or country churches. In the first place, I must 
confess in general terms, that I have never as yet, been 
able entirely to satisfy myself in regard to the elocution of 
my sermons. Indeed, I have never been able to devote 
so much lime and labor to them, as is requisite to perfect 
diction. It is impossible for him, who under a pressure of 
business and amidst unavoidable disturbances, is obliged to 
preach once every week, and occasionally, oftener, to pro- 
duce any thing very excellent in its kind. Under such 
circumstances, one cannot find time for the rmdia litura 
in which alone excellence can originate, there often being 
scarcely enough left for writing down what a man wishes to 
say upon paper. ^ Hence, whenever I read my sermons 
with critical accuracy, in the style and dress, I every where 
discover imperfections and defects which might have been 
avoided, had I possessed more time, or been able to work 
them over and improve them. Did these imperfections 
consist merely in my occasionally commencing a sermon 
with two or three sliort syllables, as has justly been ob- 
jected to them by Grafe,f I should comfort myself with 
the reflection, that such a master as Cicero commenced a 
powerful oration with venio.'l The defects of which I 

* [What then must be said of vvriting-'thiee sermons a week, under a pres- 
sure of other parochial duties ? Where is there any time lefi for ihoug^ht, rhe- 
torical preparation, and hoi}' communion with God 1 Jiesides, is it not as well 
to fvcach extempore, as to read a sermon written extempore ? To come 
at the point at once ? Should not the grand object of an education be, to ena- 
ble a man to pour forth the rich treasures of his own mind into the minds of 
others, without being- subjected to the slavish necessity of writinjif them down 
in the first place ? True, it is an object of great elevation and difficult attain- 
ment. Nothing but deep practical thinking, close attention to philosophy, in- 
timate acquaintance with the human heart, susceptibility of emotion, and a 
thorough knowledge of language, will enable one to reach it 3 but does not 
the cause of truth require every student for the ministry to make the effort 7 
Once attained, what power would it put into his bands ? All the time now 
devoted to the mechanical process of writing, might then be devoted to ener- 
getic thinking; and looks, actions, tones of voice, nay, eloquence herself, be- 
brought to the minister's aid. I'hen, we might expect liim to catch the inspi- 
ration of the revivals which now light up the church and begin to roll their in- 
fluence over the world, and hear hnn speak in the pulpit, not like a timid child^ 
afraid of offending his audience, with his head pouring over bis notes, but like 
an ambassador of God^ full of awful solemnity, with a message fresh from the 
portals of heaven ] 

t See his Anweisunff zum Rhytmus in homileiiseher und liturgischer Hin* 
«icht,S. 118, 

X Compare Accusationis in C. Verrem, lib; IV. 



LETTER XII. 97 

speak are of a far higher character. They may be stated 
in general terms, as follows : The expression is not always 
as excellent, definite and intelligible, as it ought to be, is 
not rich enough, and does not contain sufEcient variety. 
Sometimes it is too brief and not sufficiently clear; at oth- 
ers, it is too verbose, and contains something that is super- 
fluous. It is often destitute of that easy movement, that 
ready flow, in which every thing seems to spring naturally 
forth of itself. Sometimes the ear is ofiended by a disa- 
greeable location of the words ; at others, it is displeased, 
or filled with one that is defective. And finally, the trans- 
ition from one part to another, is not always sufficiently 
easy and natural, too often recurs, and exhibits too great 
an appearance of uniformity. Permit me, my dear friend, 
to make a few definite remarks respecting these several 
points of complaint, without pretending to follow the order 
in which they have been named. That the diction of my 
sermons does not always possess that clearness and sim- 
plicity which it ought to; that I have made use of a mul- 
titude of words and phrases which can be understood only 
by those who are acquainted with our book language, or at 
least, by those who have had some degree of scientific ed- 
ucation, I willingly admit. I will go so far as to confess, 
that in view of my relations, and the churches before which 
I had to preach, I considered myself not only authorized, 
but in a manner obliged, to make use of this style and lan- 
guage. ^_ 

At VVittemberg, I preached in the University Church, 
and most of my common hearers were learned men and 
sludents. In addressing this audience, of course, I could 
make use of many representations, expressions and figures 
of speech, which would have been altogether improper 
before any other ; and being in the habit of using scientific 
expressions during the whole week, it was natural for me 
to introduce them into the discourses I wrote for the Sab- 
bath. In Dresden, I was placed over a church, which was 
either composed of well educated men, or such as were 
acquainted with our best writers; and hence, in addressing 
it, 1 was at liberty to make use of the book language, and a 
style, altogether above the comprehension of common peo- 
9 



98 LETTER XII. 

pie. Indeed, I was obliged to do so, or create displeas- 
ure or offence. 

I hope, however, that no one will think of writing and 
speaking as I did, who has to address a very mixed as- 
sembly, or merely country people. 1 am altogether op- 
posed, indeed,to that false clearness and simplicity, in which 
a man speaks to grown persons as children, and degener- 
ates into what is flat and vulgar. The preacher should 
not lower himself down to the vulgar capacities of the 
populace, but he should elevate his hearers lo himself; 
and hence, at all times avail hiinself of a serious, dignified, 
and select diction. Jn so doing, however, he must avoid 
those turns and expressions with which ignorant or poorly 
educated people can connect no ideas, or only wrong 
ones, and make use of those which are well known, or ex- 
actly describe the thing intended. An example will best 
illustrate what I mean. 

The thirtieth Sermon of 1799, treats of the theme : 
Hoiv Christians should regard their location in time. In 
this case the subject is not expressed in language sufficient- 
ly clear. A common person will not know what to make 
of the clause, his location in time. For such an one, the 
theme should have been thus expressed : How Chris- 
tians should regard the time in which God permits 
ihem to live. In my exaniination and illustration of this 
theme, I have used a mnliiiude of turns and expressions 
which can be understood ordy by well educated people. 
For instance, in the introduciion, I have personified time, 
and called upon her children for that help, which, in 
common language, siiould be sought for, from, and ascrib- 
ed to God ; and used the phrases: Periode der vergang- 

enheit unter den Bedins^unL'en der Zeit stehen — die 

Zeit ninimt tins nicht rnp.der aiif, wenn tvir uns ihr einmal 
entzogen hoben — sc/urarmrrlsche Seher — ihre Periode soli 
voruber seyn^y.s. w,, which are altogether above common 
intellects; and the body of the sermon is full of instances 
of this kind, and if any one wishes to find a passage in 
which they are henped together in great abundance, he 
may consult the first suh-divi.:>ion of the third part, cdm^ 
mencing; Verblendumj; nevne ich den S^o/z, and ending; 
diesrr Stclz ist ivahre Verhlevdvvg. The subjects 
of this sub-division, are sufficiently intelligible for any coun- 



LETTER XII. 99 

try villa2;e ; but they are treated of in such language, that I 
have no idea they would be understood, if declaimed to such 
a village by a rapid speaker. In short, should 1 accurately 
examine this sermon, I should find a multitude of words, like 
strange coin, altogether unknown to the common people, 
having never been in circulation among them. I have 
said enough, however, to show, that, as 1 did not write for 
a country congregation, my sermons aie not intelligible to 
all, and hence, are by no means to be iipJtated by those 
who preach to country people.* 

And here I must make some remarks respecting a dif- 
ference as I think, to be noted, between ancient and mod- 
ern eloquence. The ancient orator, strictly speaking, 
never addressed a mixed assembly. His hearers had an 
equal degree of education, as regarded the m.ain subject, 
and were alike acquainted with and interested in, the point 
in question, respecting which, as ii was a matter purely of 
common life, tliey believed themselves equally competent 
to decide. He was not merely at liberty, therefore, but 
he was obliged, to use those expressions only, which were 
generally known and commonly em[)loyed ; and the 
amount of words in circulation were amply sufficient to 
enable him to say whatever lie wished. Had he used 
poetical forms or philosophical expressions, he would have 
been ridiculed, as he would have departed from the prac- 
tices of common life without any just occasion whatever. f 
With the modern orator, and es[)ecially the preacher, ev- 
ery thing is different. The art of printing, by the facility 
with which it spreads all kinds of writings abroad, has in 
modern times formed a reading public as it is called, of 
which the ancients were totally ignorant. When writers 
sought to iinpiirt every thing to this public which could 
be interesting to man, and be2;an even to reduce the ab- 
stract sciences to a popular form, they were obliged to 
form a langnai^e altoo:;ether peculiar, and entirely different 
from that used by the mere speaking and talking public, 

* The Remarks of Greilin^, Von der hohern unrl niedern Popularitat, in the 
^vork already quoted : Theorie der Popularitat, ^ 51 S. 9''' ff. are well worth 
attention. 

t Hence, the reason why Cicero made so many apologies whenever he 
wished to use philosophical and scieniifir expressions. See Pro Archia Poeta, 
c. 2} also the couclusion of this Oration, and Pro Murena, c, 29. 

k, OF C, 



100 



LETTER XII. 



and which, as it is to be met with only in books, may with 
propriety be called the hook language. Hence, originat- 
ed necessities which threw the modern orator, and espec- 
ially the preacher, into an embarrassment, of which the 
ancient orators knew nothing.^ If, for instance, the preach- 
er makes use altogether of those expressions which are 
universally known and employed in common life, he of- 
fends what is called the reading public, — a class of people 
accustomed to a language of a higher cast, which they 
have acquired, if in no other way, by reading novels and 
romances, and who of course look upon the preacher's 
language, as too vulgar, — and hence, cannot endure it. If, 
on the other hand, the preacher uses the book language or 
mingles it with the other, he renders himself unintelligible 
to those who do not read, and addresses hin^self to them 
in words and phrases in which they cannot think. Such 
being the embarrassing and conflicting wants and demands 
of the modern world, it is almost impossible for a man to do 
justice to every individual of a very mixed audience, com- 
posed of the learned and the unlearned. At least, I am cer- 
tain that 1 should not succeed in attempting to pursue a mid- 
dle course, which, while it pleased the educated, should be 
intelligible to the uneducated. Hence, 1 have ever con- 
sidered it as a cause of great congratulation, that my pub- 
lic audiences have always been of a uniform character and 
well acquainted with the book language. This fact has 
justified me in writing, nay, obliged me to write, as I have 
done, whereas, if I had been a country minister, or obliged 
to preach to mixed assemblies, I should have proceeded 
in a manner entirely different, and endeavored to use the 
language between those two extremes, of which I have al- 
ready spoken. With these remarks before them, intelli- 
gent hearers will not find it difficult to ascertain, what parts 
of my sermons are not written in a sufficiently popular 
style, and hence, what parts and phrases they should by no 
means thiuk of imitating. 

One of the great faults of my sermons, is, a too frequent 
use of certain figures of speech, especially the interrogation. 

* Chrysostom, however, early began to complain of something of the same 
kind. Pe Sacerdot, 1, V, c, 1, st qq. 



LETTER XII. 101 

It does indeed give a discourse more vivacity and im- 
pression, to transform those positions which the preacher 
deems of especial importance to ihe hearers, into questions^ 
addressed immediately to the decision as it were, of their 
judgments. But I cannot deny, that I have sometimes 
introduced this mode of speech where it was inappropriate, 
and every thing would have been belter, categorically ex- 
pressed. Besides, the too frequent use of this figure 
creates a uniformity which is disagreeable. Indeed, a 
man who makes a too frequent use of the interrogation, 
will fail of accomplishing his object. The very fact, that 
it is often introduced and rendered as it were common, 
will deprive it of all effect. That it increases the difficul- 
ty of uttering a discourse and occasions a greater exer- 
tion of the lungs, I will not even mention. Here and 
there I have also too frequently introduced the exclama- 
tion. I believe, however, that I have made a bad use of 
this figure, less frequently than of the other. 

The art of making the transitions from one division or 
sub-division to another in a natural and easy manner, has 
something in it altogether peculiar. These transitions 
may be compared to the joints of a body. Without joints 
the body would be stiff and helpless, and without those of 
sufficient pliability, be racked with every movement. 
That I have taken great pains to connect the parts of my 
sermons together in a natural and easy manner, is a thing 
of which I am perfectly conscious. I have never suc- 
ceeded, however, in doing justice to myself in this respect. 
On th^ ;ther hand, the transitions of many of my sermons, 
, are not only sometimes unnatural and constrained, but of- 
ten too uniform. The former appears to me to be fre- 
quently the case with the connexions of the grand divis- 
ions. With all my efforts so to add the main parts to 
each other, that they should seem to rise of their own ac- 
cord, I have often come far short of success. I hope, 
therefore, that none who read my sermons will take them 
as correct guides in this respect, but aim at a far higher 
degree of perfection. The other fault, or too great uni- 
formity in the transitions, is particularly conspicuous in the 
sub-divisions. Often, indeed, these transitions are quite 
easy and natural, especially when the words with which 
*9 



102 LETTER xn. 

a division closes, remind the reader of, and prepare him for, 
the succeeding one;* when the grand division is of such 
a character, that one part follows from another ; and 6nal- 
ly, when there is a gradation in the parts. If, however, any 
person reads a number of my sermons in succession, he mW 
find these easy and natural transitions frequently returning, 
and too little diversified. This is a subject, also, upon 
which those must reflect, who wish to render their dis- 
courses highly perfect. 

In discourses which are accurately arranged and divid- 
ed into the parts which are to be closely remarked upon 
and impressed upon the memory, nothing is more natural, 
than that one should frequently avail himself of that kind 
of transition which the ancient rhetoricians called complex- 
ion. This mode of concluding a point is extremely ap- 
propriate, because it repeats the explained and proved 
series of thought, ordinarily in the very same expressions 
in which it was originally stated, and again as it were, re- 
commends it to the memory. From the whole construction 
of my sermons, every thing they contained, being divided 
into parts as the principal subjects of remarks and reflec- 
tions, I was almost necessarily inclined, to make a frequent 
use of the complexion ; in part, for the perfection of every 
division ; and in part, for the sake of an easy transition 
from one subject to another, making the progression of 
the whole treatise the more obvious, and rendering it easy 
for the hearer to draw the conclusion. Even in this re- 
spect, however, I have not always observed due modera- 
tion. I have often used the complexion with loo great 
uniformity, even where it might have been omitted, without 
doing any prejudice to the discourse ; and I might, and for 
the sake of variety, should, have selected a more appro- 
priate mode of connexion and transition. Here then is 
another imperfection which every one should seek to 
avoid, in working out his discourses. 

1 have always had considerable difficulty in making a 
proper use of pronouns. Indeed, I have taken great pains 
so to use them, that all ambiguity by the reference of them 

•Upon this subject consult Wsichter's masterly but too laudatory analysis 
of one of my sermons, in the second volume of the Allgem, praktisch. Biblio- 
4iiek for I'redi^er und ♦Schulmanner. S. 165 t 



LETTER XII. 103 

to a wrong antecedent should be impossible, and yet have 
often failed in the attempt. In reading my sermons, I 
constantly stumble upon passages extremely defective in 
this respect. A passage commencing, Gott hat unsern 
Geist, (^c, Sermon 24th of 1799, p. 404, is a notable in- 
stance ; for, in the course of a few sentences, there is a 
perfect obscurity, the pronouns being equally referrible to 
Gott, Geist, or Korper. The sentence commencing, 
Himmlische, von Gott, and ending der Juden geworden, 
in the first remarks of the Reformation Sermon of 1796, 
is a similar instance ; the nouns. Religion and fVarheit 
together with the pronouns and adjectives referring to 
them, being completely blended together, so that the an- 
tecedents to which they respectively refer, cannot be dis- 
tinguished. That it is difficult to avoid all obscurity of 
this kind, I am ready to acknowledge. It can often be 
done only by completely changing the train of thought, and 
casting it into another form.^ True, the reference of these 
ambiguous pronouns can generally be ascertained from 
the connexion of the sentence and the nature of the sub- 
ject. It should be recollected, however, that, in listening 
to a speaker, the hearer has no time to compare the con- 
text, or pry into the nature of the subject, but he is under 
the necessity of listening to what continues to be said, and 
passing by what he does not apprehend upon the spot. I 
must maintain, therefore, that every writer who wishes to 
become master of a good style, must be as careful as pos- 
sible to avoid all such imperfections. 

I might bring forward a multitude of examples to show 
you, that the expressions of my sermons are not always as 
definite and excellent, nor as easy, as they ought to be ; and 
that they might often have been rendered more agreeable 
and harmonious. 1 should weary your patience, however, 
my dear friend, as well as that of my readers, if I should 
do so. If you wish to see a very imperfect passage, you 
may consult the first sub-division of the first part of the 

* [We have the same difficulty to contend with in the Enghsh language, as 
every writer knows from experience j but it is greatly dimuiished i.y our phi- 
losophical use of nouns in regard to gender, and the power we have of fre- 
quently conferring upon neutral objects an artificial gender, or, in other words, 
of availing ourselves of the aid of personification j so that, in many cases, our 
language has all the advantages of the German in this respect, without being 
embarrassed with its disadvantages.] 



104 LETTER XII. 

above quoted Reformation Sermon.* I flatter myself, 
indeed, with the hope, that there are few more so. At 
least, 1 have not stumbled upon many as imperfect, myself. 
I must acknowledge, however, that I never sit down to 
read any of my sermons with a critical eye, without find- 
ing single expressions, turns, and even whole periods, 
which might have been written far better, as you will read- 
ily believe. Indeed, I never arise from such a reading, 
with any real satisfaction, but generally wilh pain, on re- 
flecting, that, with all my labor and diligence, I have come 
far short of satisfactorily and truly representing what, my 
mind had conceived, as my own feelings required it should 
be ; and even now, with all my experience, 1 come far 
short of the standard of excellence to which I wish to at- 
tain. 

The venerable Blessig who has sought in so kind and 
honorable a manner to introduce me to the French public, 
has expressed a wish, that, out of my numerous sermons, 
a selection of a few volumes of the best, might be made 
and published, as a kind of legacy to posterity.f I doubt, 
my friend, very much, wheiher .posterity will care any 
thing about such a legacy. And then, who is to make the 
selection ? and, if it were made, as it would contain noth- 
ing new, who would print it? Farewell. 

* [The author enters into a criticism of this passage, which occupies about 
six pages, which, together with several other criticisms, is, for obvious reasons, 
omitted, though a reference is made to every passage.] 

t See a notice appended to the French translation of my Reformation Ser- 
mon of 1807, published at Strasburg, p. 47. 



MEMOIRS,* &c 



PART II. 



I. Last Sickness and Death. 

The preceding letters or confessions, In which Reinhard 
gives an account of his education for the sacred office, 
with various other particulars, were first published at Sulz- 
bach, in 1810. On the 6th of Sept. 1812, at about three 
o'clock in the morning, this truly venerable man expired. 
That quick and painless exit which the wise so eagerly 
covet, and, as the king of terrors cannot overtake 
them unawares, deem one of the best favors of heaven, 
that easy transition of the soul from earth to the hands 
of its Creator, with which his dearly beloved Heynef 
was so richly blessed, did not fall to his lot. His pas- 
sage to the tomb was long and dreary, and marked with 
disease and pain ; and deatli, when it came, seemed rath- 
er to deliver him from his bodily anguish, than to put an 
end to his existence. That blending together of the images 
of hfe and death, however, which every w^here crowd 
themselves upon us, of which he himself has spoken so in- 

* The following particulars respecting Reinhard's life, writings, &c., are 
drawn chiefly trom 1 o tiger's Delineation of his Character, Zeichnung von 
Reinhard, Dresden, 1 813, but are int^erwoven with various remarks drawn from 
other sources. 

t Probably, Christian Gotilob Heyne, a celebrated philologist, teacher, and 
general scholar, a native of Chemnitz, and Professor of Eloquence at Gottin- 
geu, where he died of a fit of apoplexy, July the 14ih, 1812. 



106 LAST SICKNESS 



structively in one of his sermons,^ produced no other ef- 
fect upon him than to render him anxious to distinguish 
every moment of suffering by doing something useful ; nor 
was he, as has been publicly asserted, daily and painfully 
engaged in earnest importunities to God for the salvation 
of his soul, until nature herself became exhausted. To 
labor in the extensive sphere of usefulness allotted to him, 
and fulfil the duties of his high calling, constituted his sup- 
port, his oil in the lamp of lile, and bread of heaven in the 
desert. To this effect he often expressed himself to those 
around him. ' I will willingly bear every variety of pain 
and bodily suffering,' said he, ' if, in the mean time, I may 
only be permitted to mount the pulpit and preach as I 
have hitherto done.' 

In general, this Christian sage exhibited no inclination 
to die magnanimously, as it is common for thousands to 
do, nor, though he believed far more extensive and con- 
soling views burst upon the departed Christian, f did he 
say any thing of the soul's being released from her prison 
house, the body ; and it was only when he considered his 
usefulness at an end, that he looked upon death as desira- 
ble. At length the messenger of peace made his appear- 
ance, and kindly beckoned hiin away. After his departure, 
a heavenly smile stood upon his lips, then, for the first 
time, silent, which erased from his emaciated countenance 
almost every appearance of disease and pain, and over- 
spread it with that heavenly serenity which had always 
pervaded his breast. 

Having, in 1803, while on an official journey through 
Erzgebirg, fallen from his horse, and broken one of his 
legs, he was confined by the accident to the house of 
the Superintendent in Chemnitz, J for nearly three months, 
and so intimidated, that, notwithstanding the earnest im- 
portunities of his friends, he would never afterwards 
venture to mount a saddle; the consequence of which 
was, his deprivation of suitable exercise, and the aggra- 
vation of various diseases to which he had for some 
time been subjected. In 1811, an obstinate hemor- 

* Predigten, 1804, Th. II. S. 104 ff. 

t See Reinhard's Ch. Moral, Th. V. S. 183 f. 

t See the Sermons of 1S04; Pred. I. S. 2 ff. 






AND DEATH. 107 

rhoidal complaint had so far got the upper hand of him, 
as to induce him to form the hazardous resolution of sub- 
mitting to a painful and dangerous chirurgical operation, 
in which he shared not only the well-known skill, but the 
sympathy and constant attention of Hedenus, ilie royal 
surgeon. Every thing at first seemed to promise the hap- 
piest success, but soon the operation was found, instead of 
eradicating the disease, to have driven it to more vital 
parts. In the midst of the most excruciating pain, how- 
ever, he not only performed all the duties of his office, but 
continued to preach almost every Sunday, without inter- 
mission, until the end of the winter of 1812, when the gout 
attacked one of his feet, and disqualified him for all public 
duties. He never ascended the pulpit after the fast 
on the 28th of February ; though, considering preaching 
as he did, the very soul of Protestantism, and the business 
to which every thing else should be made subordinate, it 
filled him with inexpressible sorrow. He did not remain 
inactive, however, for while he was afflicted with his lame 
foot, he examined candidates for the ministry for fourteen 
days in succession, beginning immediately after Easter. 
This was the last time he performed this service ; and long 
will the youth of Saxony who were present, with pleasure 
call to mind the exercises by wliich he consecrated them to 
the ministry, while he sought to enkindle in their hearts the 
flame of devotion, and fill them with those doctrines by which 
the two worlds are connected together, listened to and crit- 
icised, though not with great efforts, their first attempts at 
sermonizing, and attended again, though not without pain- 
ful suffering, every session of the ecclesiastical council 
and chief consistory."^ 

Not having visited the Upper Palatinate since 1804, he 
felt anxious to see his beloved native country once more, 
before lie died. With the hope therefore of reducing the 
complicated diseases which preyed upon him,f and 
strengthening himself for the journey, he commenced the 

•The reader will find much information respecting- various customs refer- 
red to in this work, in the severdl articles upon Germany published in the first 
volume of the Bibl. Repos. 

t Among other disorders, he had long been troubled with a complaint of the 
bladder. 



108 LAST SICKNESS 

use of ass's milk, it having been found very salutary m 
chronic complaints. To avail himself of this kind of diet 
v^ithout disturbance, he retired to Tharant, where he spent 
five weeks. This is one of the most pleasant bathing pla- 
ces in the region of Dresden. At that time, however, it 
presented him with a double attraction, from the fact, that 
it daily enjoyed the refreshing visits of his much esteemed 
physician and friend, Dr. Kapp, a man, distinguished 
alike for his scientific knowledge, experience, and practi- 
cal skill, surrounded by his grand children, and like Luci- 
an's Demonax, passing from house to house, welcomed 
wherever he went. The company and conversation of 
this enga.2;ing man, furnished Reinhard with an agreeable 
compensation for his constrained inactivity, which, of all 
the afflictions God had laid upon him, he found the most 
painful to bear. The summer, however, proved rainy and 
unpleasant, and did not permit Reinhard often to avail 
himself of the bath. The only effect of his dieting, was 
to drive his complaint to his lungs, which had hitherto re- 
mained unaffected. A consumptive cough succeeded, 
which deprived him of all sound repose, or if he ever slept 
quietly, seemed to render it the means of aggravating all 
the symptoms of his complaint. His body gradually con- 
sumed away, and finally began to break down altogether. 
The oldest and most experienced physicians of Dresden, 
connected with him by the tenderest ties of friendship, 
among whom that excellent old man. Dr. Pezold then in 
his fiftieth year, the royal physician and aulie councillor 
Kreisig, and the surgeon Hedenus, should be particular- 
ly mentioned, having all been consulted, bad exhausted 
their utmost efforts to procure him relief. Reinhard at- 
tended to tlie various j)rescriptions, which, from time to 
time, after much reflection they prepared for him, merely 
from a sense of duty, and not from a conviction that they 
were able to do him any good. 

With that sure prophetical presentiment which some 
politicians possess, he always evinced, and death often 
seems only to quicken, he calculated for his approaching 
end. With deep interest he thought of his ordinary coursa 
of life, his domestic circle, and the scene of his labors, 
and, leaving his retirement, hasiened to his garden seat, ia^ 



AND DEATH. 109 

one of the nearest suburbs of Dresden. Here, aniong his 
favorite plants, in the open air, he derived some pleasure 
fronri warming himself in the rays of the sun, v^henever it 
shone forth mild and pleasant; and as it fatigued him too 
much to walk, he refreshed liimself about noon by resort- 
ing to his green house, which was surrounded with herbs 
and flowers. On such occasions, his friendi, seeing the 
vivacity with wliich he took part in discussions of a public 
or private nature, often felt themselves animated with new 
hopes of his recovery. It was natural that they should 
hope for the best, but he always refused to assent to tlieir 
opinion, and replied by shaking his head and appealing to 
appearances. 

But however great the exhaustion of the sufferer might 
be, accustomed as he always had been, to struggle for the 
victory over himself, he did not willingly give himself up 
to it or long remain inactive, though it was only at broken 
intervals that the mind was able to obtain the victory over 
the body. He still continued lo rise early in the morn- 
ing, though an hour later than formerly, as it was not until 
towards morning that he could obtain sound repose,— 
dressed himself, and immediately resorted to his delight- 
ful tasks. It was not until the last fortnight of his life, that 
he would so far yieM to the importunities of the friends 
around him, as to continue sitting in an easy posture in his 
night dress, on the sofa. To lie on the bed in the day 
time, was a thing to which he refused to assent, to the very 
last; so great was the control of his mind over a body 
which had almost relused to serve. On the meeting of 
the diet in 1811, the ma2:nanimous classes of the kingdom 
had granted an extraordinary contribution for the institu- 
tion at St. Afra. A new building had been commenced 
in that piare, and a plan of instruction drawn up, to the 
perfection of which Reinhard was desired to contribute by 
his remarks, which he accordingly did, notwithstanding l)is 
weakness, and aided in various other ways, in which he 
proved to this alma mater of a Gellert and Lessing, what 
he had previously, to that at Pforte, a paternal counseller 
and friend.* But a few days before his death, he drevr 

♦ The Imildinfi: was consecrated on tlie 17ih of Nov. and devoted to the sol- 
maaizaiion of keiuhnrd's death on the 17th of Dec. 1812. , 

10 



110 LAST SICKNESS 

up in his own hand writing, a prayer to be read in the 
evangelical Court Church on the day of the consecration 
of this building, which was fixed for the 13ih of Septem- 
ber. In this and similar ways, he passed the time of his 
sickness, always contending with his complaint and en- 
deavoring to get the victory over himself. Only two 
days before his death, he wrote a letter to a friend at Wit- 
temberg, and corrected a proof sheet to the fifth part of 
his Moral. One of the last works he read through with 
attention, of which also he expressed his approbation, was 
Heeren^s Ideen. At this time also he was constantly en- 
gaged in giving assistance and advice, either orally or in 
writing, to persons around him and at a distance, while to 
the close of life, he continued to take a lively interest in 
passing circumstances and events, which like his friend 
John Miiller"^ he always believed to be under the divine 
control, in which respect he firmly adhered to those views 
and feelings expressed in his 17th sermon of 1811, Upon 
the Government of God over the world, addressed to those 
Christians who entertained doubts on this point. 

Amidst the pain and weakness of body, however, to 
which, notwithstanding the strength of his mind, he was 
subjected during the last days of his life, he had notice of 
several events calculated to fill him with joy. From one 
of his relatives who had published his Sermons, Theology, 
and Confessions, who belonged to one of the most respec- 
table booksellers in Germany, and had come all the way 
from Sulzbach to Dresden, for the sole purpose of once 
more seeing his benefactor and friend, he received infor- 
mation, that a work which had been sent to him during his 
sickness in 1811, and to which he wrote a short but pow- 
erful preface, had gone through two editions the very first 
year of its publication, and been the means of scattering 
many of the imperishable seeds of truth. f The most 
joyful news that he heard, however, was, that the king had 

* See Job. v. Mailer's Werke, VIII, 236, 260, 263 ; Friefe ?n seinen altes- 
ten Freund in der Schweiz, (Zi'jrch, Fuessly, 1812,) S. 269, 

t Pyrrho und Philalethes, Sulzbach, Seidel, 1812. It was written by i\^is 
venerable Crell, Councillor of the Mines, in Gott. & c, at the close of his dis- 
tinguished career, and exhibits his views of ihe truth, which, in respect to 
l^ysirotheology and teleological proof, correspond with those of Keinhard^ 
Moral; IV. 491, V. 163. It was published at first without his name. 



AND DEATH. Ill 

approved of the plan of a university at Leipsic which had 
been drawn up by a double number of royal commission- 
ers Wijo had been appointed for this purpose, to whom 
Reinhard belonged, and thus crowned a work for which 
he had ardently labored. Of the success of his labors, 
however, he was never inclined to say much, nor did he 
seem to derive pleasure fiom looking at the past. He felt 
as thouiih it was unbecoming a sower, to feel proud of 
his harvest, however great it m'ght be, since God had 
brought it forth by means of rain and sunshine, from the 
germ which he himself had created. To wish like a hero, 
to enjoy ihegood of a work at the evening of life, he con- 
sidered as bordering upon foolishness. Others might 
warm their hearts in ihis way, and delight themselves with 
such considerations, but he could not. The greatest and 
happiest efforts he made, fell far short of what he endeav- 
ored and felt himself obligated to perform, even in writing 
his sermons ; and hence, he was often filled with the most 
unfeigned astonishment at the frequent and flattering proofs 
which he received from the remotest parts, of the good he 
had been the means of effecting. 

Very touching and interesting were the remarks which 
he made, from time to lime, to his friends, when they in- 
dulged themselves in expressing their good wishes, and 
sought to show, tliat his immediate usefulness could not then 
be about to close. They strikingly exhibited his humility, 
and entire dissatisfaction with himself, notwithstanding the 
internal purity of his moral character, the motives by which 
he had ever been actuated, and the strenuous efforts he 
had made to accomplish all the good in his power. '' God 
is confined to no particular instrument," was his reply. 
*' If he does not choose to employ me, he is able to find 
another. He is too perfect in wisdom, to suffer his plans 
and operations to depend upon imperfection." 

For some days his hiccough had been increasing upon 
him, and gradually diminishing his strength, but yet he did 
not suppose his dissolution to be so near as it was. On 
the alternoon preceding his death, in complinnce with the 
wishes of his wife, he was removed from his garden seat, 
to his official residence in the city. On this occasion he 
left all his papers behind him, except the manuscript to the 



112 LAST SICKNESS. 

fifth part of his Moral, and, when carried by the evangeli- 
cal Court Church in which, for the last 21 years, his belov- 
ed and afFectionaie people, under the influence of his 
preaching, had assembled in harmonious and heart-felt 
union, heard its well known clock strike for the last time. 
In the evening, he made no change Irom the usual course 
of his life, or the order of the day. He read with an un- 
broken voice, from the second part of Lichtenstein's travels, 
and retired to bed at his usual hour. His rest was quiet, 
except that he once awoke, until afier midnight, when he 
found himself unable to rise. '' Farewell," said he, imme- 
diately, " farewell to you all." These were his last words, 
which he repeated several times, and, in a few moments, 
expired. They were heard from the Aar to the Dwina, and 
listened to with deep and heart-felt emotion by the absent, 
and often will they be repeated' with grateful recollections 
by the churches which he educated and established in the 
truth, and his brethren in the ministry, whom he tenderly 
loved, always bore on his heart before the throne of grace, 
and prayed for aloud every evening, until God successively 
calls them to take their silent repose. 

As may be supposed by any one w^io has read the 9th 
letter of his Confessions, he adhered to the doctrine of 
free grace, through the atoning blood of Christ, arid, how- 
ever foolish it may appear to the Rationalist, or be made 
a subject of controversy, derived his chief su[)port from it 
in the hour of death; and though some may slnug up their 
shoulders, on reading this, and affect to drop a tear of 
compassion over him, and others attempt to ridicule him, 
and pronounce him a hypocrite, as they did v\lien his Re- 
formation Serujon made its appearance, breathed forth his 
departing spirit into the hands of his Redeemer.^ His 
death adds another testimony, if another were needed, to 
the reality of the consolation to be derived, in exchanging 
worlds, from a hope of free pardon through Christ. No 
sparks of enthusiasm or flights of a diseased imagination 
kindled up false fires in his breast, or illuded tl)e eye of 
reason, nor was his mind obscured with the darkness of 
ignorance. The flame of devotion glowed steadily within, 

* Many incorrect accounts have been published respecting Reinhard's de^-th 
'Jlk© .above ^^vas drawn from the iesiimony of his widow. 



AND DEATH. 113 

and reason kept watch at her post. With an enlightened 
eye, he gazed into the opening gulf before him, without 
trembling or dismay, and, having labored on its brink until 
his summons arrived, he calmly leaped into it, and was 
seen no more. How different this, from the blind -folded 
exit of the scoffing sinner ! We cannot dwell, however, 
upon the death of this good man, but must ask the reader's 
pardon for hurrying him bafk to take a more particular 
survey of his life, writings, and character. 

11. His Youth and Education. 

Of the youth of Reinhard, it will be unnecessary to add 
much to what he has already told us. He was born at 
Vohenstrau'^s, in the Dukedom of Sulzbach, March the 
12th, 1753. He early evinced an ardent thirst for know- 
ledge, an insatiable desire to improve himself, and seemei 
to derive his greatest pleasure from mental occupations. 
While the other children were spending their time in vari- 
ous sports and plays, the little Francis, eager to learn, was 
seen, especially in the evening, bending over his book or 
his writing table, engaged in reading, or in composing 
short fables, hymns, and essays, some of which, the re- 
mainder of his relatives, in the Upper Palatinate, may still 
possess. la these youthful productions, we are told, he 
evinced vivacity, and a stirring and active imagination, 
which, though laid under powerful restraints by the seri- 
ous and laborious nature of his employments in after life, 
could never be entirely subdued.^ Until 15 years of age, 
he found an excellent and faithful teacher in his father, a 
pious and worthy clergyman of the place where he was 
born, by whom he was early made thoroughly acquainted 
with the ancient classics, especially Virgil and Cicero, and 
thus enabled to lay thaffoundation, upon which alone, in 
modern times, the fame of authorship, a few choice and 

* Though Reinhard frequently disclaimed all pretensions to the poetic art, 
and wished, in his works, to be considered merely as a plain writer of prose, 
it was from his utter opposition to every thing like prose run mad, a kind of 
style quite popular with some preachers, but against which he used to express 
biuiseh in Socraiic irony. He early wrote some metrical translations of the 
Greek Anthology, by way of amusement, which were published in the N. T. 
Merkur. That he had a very susceptible imagination whea aJad, is evident 
from what he himself says, Opusc. Acad. II. 273. 

*io 



114 HIS YOUTH 

'Original works of the imagination excepted, has always 
been raised. Reinhard's father presents us wiih a worthy 
example in this respect, for he delighted in teaching his 
children and devoted all his leisirre to this business. He 
seems to have felt a great attachment for Francis, and to 
have cherished fond hopes of being able to make something 
out of him, as he used often to express himself", and hav- 
ing but little relaxation from the duties of his profession, 
in 1768 he made arrangements for sending him to the 
Gy/nnusium. Poeticum, at Regensburg, where he himself 
had been educated, soon afier which, he expired. 

Reinhard speaks of his residence at this place, which 
commenced in the autumn of the above-named year, with 
considerable particularity. He appears to have devoted 
the most of his time to the study of the classics. While 
here, he derived much benefit from Mr. Augustus Topfer, 
the conrector, into whose class he first entered, and whom 
he mentions in very grateful terms. This man never came 
forward as an author, but he attended most conscientiously 
to his business as instructor, and, by endeavoring to raise 
those pupils worthy of it, above the comnion level, attach- 
ed them firmly to himself, thus exhibiting his own talents 
and integrity as a teacher ; for nothing distinguishes the 
miserable hireling from the faithful instructor more readily, 
than that the former planes all wood equally bad, while 
the latter cuts a Mercury only out of the best. By pursu- 
ing such a course and bringing forward the powers of this 
one youth, (whom afterwards when ascending to the high- 
est dignity, he had the exalted satisfaction of pressing to his 
heart,) and thus qualifying him for usefulness, Topfer did 
more good to the world than he would have done by pub- 
lishing a hundred programs and other such things. To 
this man, Reinhard was in a great measure indebted for 
the attachment he felt for Cicero during life, that fulness 
of thought for which he is so conspicuous, and the chaste- 
ness and skill he acquired in writing the Latin language, 
being scarcely equalled in this respect by any two theolo- 
gians among all his contemporaries in Germany.* 

* This is perfpctly evident from his university programs, by the collecting 
.together and publishing ol which, Poiitz has done great service to the public, 
as it was a work wliich Reinhard would never have undertaken himself, though 
%e has since made some rich additions to these programs* 



AND EDUCATIOK. Il6 

Reinhard seems also to have derived considerable bene- 
fit from Martini, at that lime rector, with whom lie became 
acquainted at a later period. He speaks of him with 
gratitude, and says he delivered some rich lectures on the 
Socratic mode of instruction, which proved of great value.* 

He seems to have derived but little benefit from his 
other teachers. Their lectures were long and tedious, and 
came far short of satisfying the active mind of this youth, 
and hence, he spent tlie most part of his four years and a 
half at this place, in unwearied attention to his own studies. 
In the mean time, however, he found patrons and pairon- 
esseSj in some of the first families in Regensburg, which 
was then very flourishing, whose assistance, together with 
what he received from some near relatives at home, poor 
as he was, supplied his wants, and prevented the necessity 
of his wasting the precious days of seed-time, in teaching 
others for the purpose of obtaining money ; for though he 
sometimes gave private instruction, he did it gratis, and 
for his own improvement. f 

Having become an able gymnasiast and auditor, in 
1773, Reinhard left Regensburg, and entered the univer- 
sity at Wittemberg. Both Erlangen and Altorf were 
nearer, and each of them, at that time, presented some 
peculiar facilities and conveniences for a residence. Pro- 
fessor Grimm, however, one of Reinhard's teachers, and a 
zealous defender of the Crusian philosophy, then in high 
repute, particularly in the South of Germany, having con- 
ceived a high regard for him, gave him a most flattering 
recommendation to Mirus, the Electoral Saxon Secretary 
of Legation. This man's sons, one of whom still lives in 
Regensburg, had been Reinhard's school-fellows. He 
was likewise zealously attached to the Crusian philosophy, 
and felt anxious to have a youth of such splendid talents, 
enlist under the same banners to which he himself had 
sworn allegiance. Accordingly, Mirus, who had studied 
theology, and made himself thoroughly acquainted with all 
its sciences, drew up a plan, agreeably to which Reinhard 
was to commence his studies at Wittemberg, the cheapest 
place, under the direction of Dr. Schmid, who was Cru- 

* Opusc. Acad. I. 109. 

i With the preceding; compare Tzscbira^r, Briefe, u. s. w. I, IL 



116 ANB EDUCATION. 

sius' nephew, and thoroughly acquainted with his theo- 
logical and philosophical views, and complete them at 
Leipsic, at the feet of the master himself, to whom Rein- 
hard was early introduced, while on a journey through 
Leipsic, by a letter from Mirus, and from whom, he, at 
the same time, received paternal counsel and advice. The 
new and interesting acquaintances, however, which Rein- 
hard had formed, during his first year's residence at Wit- 
temberg, together with the death of Crusius in 1775, pre- 
vented him from carrying the second part of tl.is plan into 
execution. He, nevertheless, remained firmly attached 
to the Crusian philosophy, at least, during the two first 
years of his academical career, — a thing, which was the 
natural result of the relations he sustained to Dr. Schmid, 
and the respect he had for his profound learning. 

Of Reinhard's first and successful attempt at preaching 
in Dietrichsdorf, his attention to the oriental languages, 
under Dr. Dresde, and bis efforts to supply other deficien- 
cies in his education, while a student at the university, he 
has given us sufficient information, in his 5th and 6th let- 
ters. The only circumstance, which, perhaps, deserves 
to be particularly mentioned, is, that he had the happiness 
of attending Schrockh's lectures upon church history, in a 
private course of instruction ; as they exerted a powerful 
influence upon him."^ To them, indeed, and the almost 
daily intercourse he had with this thoroughly learned and 
ingenious man, after he became a teacher in the university, 
he attributed the freedom of thought which he afterwards 
acquired, and the disinclination he felt to being confined 
to any particular school. It was through the influence of 
this man, in particular, that Reinhard was induced, at the 
close of his preparatory studies, to turn his attention to the 
business of instruction. He became thoroughly attached 
to him for the remainder of his life, and afterwards went 
twice from Dresden to the delightful neighborhood of Wit- 
temberg, on purpose to see him.f 

* See Tzschirner, Ueber Schrockh^s Leben und Scbriften, S. XLI. 

t Respecting- Schrockh's aversion to the Crusian philosophy, see Nitzsch, 
Ueber Schrockh's Studienwesen und Maximen, S. 24. After Reinhard and 
Schrockh became coUeagues, they, almost daily, had mutual intercourse with 
each other, ret^pecting every new phenomenon in the literary and political 
world, generally in short notes, full of Attic salt, written from theii/ studiei . 



117 



III. Reinhard as a Teacher. 

In the year 1777, by means of an essay Tor liial, re- 
specting the use of the Sepinngint, in criticising the He- 
brew text, Reinhard obtained iiberly lo teach 1 \ tlie nni- 
versity at Wiiternberg.* His educa;ion could hardly have 
been better ifian it was, to qualify iiim for this business. 
In addition to this, Reinhard was born a teacher, and never 
felt happier, than when stnrounded with his pupils, and 
giving them instruction. He then considered himself as 
enjoying life in the highest degree. f The period whirh he 
spent in this employment at the university, he afterwards 
considered as the brightest spot in his recollections. No 
wonder, then, that he erew with rapidity, and, in a short 
time, became philosophicHJ and theological professor. The 
applause given to his lectures increased from one half year 
to anoiher, and was gromiHed upon th.e unbribed feelings 
of his pupils. It was also well earned, for the discourses 
he delivered, which were not drawn from old, musty books, 
were full of rich thought, and always worked over anew 
every time ihey were delivered. That a man who re- 
ceived such dis inguished approbation should meet with 
some opposition, was to be expected. It is an unquestion- 
able fact, however, thf^t his discourses produced powerful 
effects upon the youthfid mind. Always engaged in in- 
vestigating the subjects upon which he lectured, and con- 
scientiously endeavoring to present his hearers with the 
newest and the best, and truths to which he had been led 
by the most strenuous efforts of which he was CHj>able, it 
was natural that his lectures should be thronged, and 
should exert a great influence. The names of many are 
now tnentioned with esteem in Germany, both as theologi- 
cal and philosophical writers, who received the finishing 
part of their education under Reinhard. Some of them 

Schrockh never failed lo be present when Reinhard preaclifd, but used to 
come slyly and cordially to meet me in my litUe chamber, as the latter often 
related, in after years ; for they ao^reed in th^ir views of revelation and the 
doctrines of the Bible. See Nitzsch '^^ 27 ff Tzschininr, XLI— Xi.V. The 
Hieetins: f>f these men took place, by agreement, at Worliiz, in the years 1795 
and 1798. 

* See the Opusc. Academica. 

t According to Mania!; VI. 70, Non est viue e, sed docere vita. 



118 



REINHARD 



ought to give us a history of their conversion, for it was not 
seldom, in this respect, that a Polemon canne to a Xeno- 
crates. The time which Reinhard spent in the business 
of teacliing at Wittemberg, may be divided into two peri- 
ods : The first extending from 1778 to 1784, when he 
was engaged in philosophy and theology ; the second, 
from 1784 to 1792, when he was engaged in theology and 
homiletics, and, as provost, together with his theological 
colleagues, was obliged, according to rule, to preach every 
Sunday and festival in the University Church. 

or the sacred attention he paid during this period of his 
life to all the duties of his office; the doubts and struggles 
through vvliich he had to pass, before he could brir.g his 
mind to firm and satisfactory results in philosophy ; and 
finally, of his conscientiousness as a theoloirian, to found 
every thing upon the Bible, the salutary influence of which 
he daily felt in his oum heart, he has given us ample infor- 
mation in his Confessions. 

When Reinhard commenced his career as a teacher in 
the university at Wittemberg, there were many very per- 
ceptible defects in the course of instruction there pursued. 
Hiiler, from the school of the great Berger, in his prime 
justly and truly esteemed as a lecturer in philology and 
philosophy, had not in the former, as )et gone far beyond 
the Rnceinadonen Zum Tacitus^ nor in the latter, far be- 
yond Wolf and Baumeister. Reinhard immediately set 
about remedying these defects, and his lectures in both de- 
partments, at once recommended themselves by their 
charining clearness and thorough and extensive investiga- 
tions. Of the lectures which he delivered at a very early 
period, the philological upon some of Plato's dialogues, 
and the exegetical upon the Psalms, which he always 
translated into a rhythmical form, were looked upon by 
the unanimous consent of his hearers, as particularly dis- 
tinguished."^ The volumes which contain these lectures, 

*Amon^ Keinhard's postiiumous papers, tliere is a finished manuscript 
«pon Phae<Ion, Criton, and Plato's Republic, togettier with a multitude of 
philological remarks upon Horace, Tacitus, &c. extracted from his earlier 
lectures; also a complete commentary upon Genesis, upon Isaiah and the 
Psalms, all in the Latin language, and seemingly prepared for the press. 
Each Psalm is accompanied with an introduction, and translated, in an excel- 
lent rhythmical form, into the German language, the words having been se^ 
lected with the greatest propriety and taste, and (he whole work having been 
carefu'ly revised. 'J'his revised translation was published in 1813, by Hack* 
<eT, in the Jubilate-messe. 



AS A TEACHER. 119 

worked out into a very perfect state, are still to be found 
among Reinhard's literary remains. His lectures howev- 
er upon particular branches of philosophy, which were 
divided into different courses, were attended by far the 
greatest number of hearers, and their results were soon 
made known in a variety of publications. In these lec- 
tures, he always professed to be an Eclectic. He was 
often urged to publish them, at least to the extent of a 
small manual, but as he was constantly adding to his infor- 
mation and changing them, he could not be persuaded to 
do so, with the exception of a few outlines for the accom- 
modation of his pupils.^ To each position he added the 
literature of it, in doing which he evinced deep learning 
and acute judgment. He was always most interesting 
when he treated of psychology. 

Reinhard, in the progress of his investigations, passed 
from the strictest Crusian philosophy to that of Plato and 
the old academy, and thence, to that of Leibnitz and 
Wolf, between whose systems he remained for a long time 
in a sta^e of pure skepticism. As he advanced, however, 
his views continually enlarged, until he became so intimate 
with critical philosophy, which then comprehended every 
thing, that, shortly before he went to Dresden, he wrote a 
lecture upon it, entitled : An examination of the peculi- 
arities and most noted results of the Kantian philosophy, 
the entire manuscript of which is still in existence. In 
this examination, he seems to be a pure Kantian, treats 
this philosophy as his own, and does not allow himself to 
bring forward any objections to it. Indeed, he was at this 
time far less consistent in his views of this philosophy than 
afterwards, when he wrote the celebrated preface to the 
third edition of his Moral and had penetrated much far- 
ther into it. It is true, many of his hearers, particularly 
those from Reinhold's school in Jena, were dissatisfied 
with this lecture, but it answered the grand purpose for 
which he intended it, which was, to lead each one to in- 
vestigate for himself As no new phenomenon, either in 

* These lecures tog-pther with some upon natural law perfectly finished, ar» 
also extant, partly in the Latin and partly in the German. The acute author 
of Aenesidemus, one of Reinhard's pupils, by his Grundriss der philosophi- 
schen Wissenschafien, Wiitem. 1788—1790, has g^ven us a very lucid account 
«f bis master's mode of philosophizing". 



120 



REINHARD 



philosophy or theology, escaped him, and every positioB 
was submitted to the most rigid examination, he did not 
hesitate to publish the resulis to which he arrived, in the 
various productions of the day ; and hence, he became by 
profession, a reviewer. The most serious* labor which 
he performed in this respect, was, to review one of Sem- 
ler's works, which procured for him the respect of foreign- 
ers, and made him feel how much can sometimes be done 
by an impartial and well sustained criticism. About this 
time, the two Helmstadt scholars, Henke and Bruns, enga- 
ged in publishing a work, known by the name of Helm- 
stadt Annals, which made its appearance monthly in the 
Latin language, and for the rich matter it contains, is still 
justly prized. It was set up in the place of the Ephem- 
eris, a work on single sheets, and was sustained for five years, 
at the expense of the magnanimous Duke of Brunswick. 
Henke having called for assistance in the literary depart- 
ment, Reinhard enriched it with a series of the most thor- 
ough reviews, and continued to do so, until the year 1787, 
when the work itself was brought to a close. These re- 
views were confined almost exclusively to works upon 
speculative and practical philosoph}^, and seldom extended 
to those which lay within the limits of theology. Some 
of them are so thorough, extensive, and so far exhaust 
the subject, that they might pass for small treatises. All 
of them might as regards worth, have been collected to- 
gether and ()rinted as a separate volume of Reinhard's 
Opuscula Amdemica. Influenced by the part Reinhard 
took in the Helmstadt Annals, as well as by the celebrity 
of his writings and his talents for teaching, his fame in 
these respects having spread all over Germany, iVIahner, 
the private counciller of Brunswick, recommended him to 
the duke as a suitable theologian for the Helmstuli acad- 
emy. Accordini:;ly, in the year 1790, he received a very 
unexpected call to Helmstadt, with a salary nearly double 
of what he received at Wittemberg, and other perquisites. 
As the occlesiasiiral council at Dresden appeared to be 
taking no very active measures to confine him permanently 
to Saxony, every preparation was made for liim at Helm- 

* Any one vvlio uislies to see a list of the most distinguished of these re- 
fiews, may consult I ouiger's Delineation of Keinhard's character, Note 36. 



AS A TEACHER, 121 

stadt, even to the hiring of a dwelling house for his resi- 
dence. It was not long, however, before such active mea- 
sures were taken and pressing invitations sent from Dres- 
den, to induce him to remain where he was, which, 
together with his strong attachment to Wittemberg, finally 
prevailed. He therefore relinquished all idea of removal, 
but in so doing, he made it an express condition, that no- 
thing should be said to him respecting increasing his salary 
or diminishing the duties of his office. It has often been 
said, that he was induced on this occasion, to act as he did, 
by the prospect held out before him, of uhimately attain- 
ing to the highest spiritual rank in Dresden. That this 
assertion, however, is utterly groundless, every one will 
conclude, who knows wnth how many struggles and inter- 
nal prejudices he had to contend, before he could bring 
himsell to leave Wittemberg, and the manner in which it 
has been refuted by the noble conference minister, the 
count of Schonberg. 

All the pupils of Reinhard while at Wittemberg, speak 
of their incomparable teacher, says Bottiger, with a kind 
of enthusiasm. From some gentlemen who were inti- 
mately connected with him, and whose information can be 
relied upon, I have received the following account of his 
mode of teaching, and his habits of life at this lime.* 

Reinhard intimately combined in himself all those qual- 
ifications which Villers, who deserve so well of Germany 
and the reformation, several years afterwards, named as 
requisites to constitute a suitable teacher for a Protestant 
university. f His lectures evinced equal solidity in their 
contents and elocution. He read lectures four, and often 
five hours daily. Each of them was made ready before 
hand, and stitched into a small pamphlet by itself. Every 
hour of lecturing was nevertheless preceded by the most 
conscientious preparation. Hence, every thing he said 

* Messrs, Weise, superintendent in Ilerzberg, and Kenzelmann, archdeacon 
in Meissen both of ihem closely connected with their immortnl teacher for 
many years, and his intimate friends to the close of his life, should be here 
named by me, adds Bouiger, in very grateful terms. 

tCoupd'oeil sur les Universites de 1' AUemao^e protestante, p. 88. The 
passage in which these qaalities are named, may be seen, by consulting Bot- 
tiger, Note 38. He must be moral, learned, eloquent, acquainted with human 
■ature, apt to teach, celebrated as a writer, &c» 

11 



122 



REINHARD 



was new, and as he said it, exciting and attractive. He 
was guided by genera! positions, which were often given 
out and written down in the first place. In lecturing, he 
went no faster than his audience could hear and write 
down what he said, without haste. His slowness, however, 
in this respect, did not injure the agreeableness of his elo- 
cution. His utterance of itself, and his general mode of 
address were very interesting. In addition to this, he had 
a large fund of anecdotes, refutations, illustrations, and 
witty remarks, with which he knew how to enliven his 
discourse ; so that the most part of his audience preferred 
listening to him with the most fixed attention, and left, 
as they should do, the most important parts of the lecture 
to he written down from memory after they had retired 
to their rooms, this being the only beneficial method that 
can be pursued, though it requires the hearers to have 
formed a previous acquaintance with the subject. The 
copies which the students look of his lectures were multi- 
plied for purposes of gain and sent into different parts of 
the country, as was afterwards done with his sermons. 

His lectures were dignified, but filled with doubt and 
Socratic irony. His object, in all cases, was, to produce 
conviction by means of the truth, and excite persons to ex- 
amine for themselves, and engage in private study. Pray- 
ing after others, and blindly swearing to forms^ was some- 
thing he could never endure, and which he embraced 
every occasion to correct. Seriousness and jesting sat at 
the same moment upon his lips. Of course, he was inter- 
esting, and needed none of those little arts for filling up his 
lecture room to which many a modern Hippias is obliged 
to resort, for the purpose of attracting the rustling multi- 
tude. His lectures were never injured by the feints of po- 
lemics or half-yearly excursions after wit, nor the bribed 
approbation or extravagant praise of the worthless. He 
was always mentioned with respect by the learned, who 
had heard him, and been animated by him. In his refuta- 
tions, he could inflict the sting of ridicule, though, in so 
doing, he always aimed at the thing, not the person. Of 
bis colleagues in Witiemberg he never made mention, ex- 
cept VAhen he had occasion to do so by way of commenda- 
tion. His lectures were always delivered gratis. He put 



AS A TEACHER. 123 

them up, indeed, once in six months, for the sake of com- 
plying with the law, at the small price of three dollars 5 
but the payers, as he once pleasantly remarked, were like 
the little streams that flow out of tlie Nile. He never call- 
ed upon the rich for any thing, and never would receive 
any thing from the poor. He conducted in the same way, 
when he was subject to painful want. Whenever he 
could be, he was a genuine Socratic. To this character, 
however, he added the habit of close and intimate inter- 
course with the most susceptible of his pupils. To make 
a proper selection of them, an examination of minds was 
necessary, and one, too, of which the mere reading pro- 
fessor is totally incapable. As the surest means of effect- 
ing this, he instituted appropriate discussions, and, in after 
years, hornileiical exercises, both of which he regulated, 
and animated with his presence. Not to give some ac- 
count of these, would be to rob Reinhard of the freshest 
sprig of laurel he ever wore. 

Twice every week, a select number of his hearers as- 
sembled together for the purpose of disputing and inter- 
preting under him, which exercises were regularly alter- 
nated. The members of the association were 24 in 
number, 12 of whom were called ordinary, and 12 extra- 
ordinary, and, whenever a vacancy occurred, it was sup- 
plied by an election. In interpreting, a passage of some 
Greek, Latin, or sacred writer, was explained by a mem- 
ber of one of the two classes. The ordinaries usually had 
the business of criiicising, opposing, and interpreting; the 
exiraordinaries only that (jf opposing and interpreting. 
Reinhard always distributed the [)arts, though he prelered 
to leave the choice of the author to be interpreted, to the 
members themselves. Thus, at one time, Plato's Critoa 
and Alcibiades, at another, the Gospel of John, and at a 
third, Virgil's GeoTgics and Seneca's** epistles, were select- 
ed. The master had acquired such authority, that none, 
how much soever they trembled in anticipation of his opin- 
ion, presumed to be unfaithful so far even as to come late. 
Those who v^ere destitute of courage in this respect, felt 
the reproaches of conscience, or dreaded the wit with 
which he usually lashed pride and youthful arrogance, 
chose rather to withdraw themselves entirely. When the 



134 



REINHARD 



interpreter had given a definite account of the passage in 
question, and, from the usages of the language, from histo- 
ry, philosophy, and the writer's peculiar mode of thinking, 
as well as the age in which he lived, settled its proper 
meaning, Reinhard came forward and gave his criticism, 
in as precise terms as possible. In this case, he was al- 
ways the advocate of those who had been attacked. In the 
end, however, he brought both parties to his own views, 
and, taking back what he had said in defending a particular 
side, reduced every thing to the fcur rules : A man must 
think and explain in the mind (f his avthor ; every ivriter 
must be explained by himself; the philosopher can be ex- 
plained only in the sense of his school ; and a sacred wri- 
ter only in accordance ivith the rules of dogmatics : and he 
showed how seldom passages which appeared |)erfectly 
easy, had been penetrated into and fully comprehended ; 
and how often single words, which had been deemed su- 
perfluous, had concealed the deepest sense. Woe to him 
who presumed to quote passages from the author or any 
other writer, without accuracy, or merely appealed to 
foreign testimony, — who would seem to dazzle by his 
learning without thoroughness. With wonderful readi- 
ness of memory and quickness of penetration, he exam- 
ined the passage which had been quoted falsely or with- 
out an object, and showed its inapplicability, while he de- 
manded the point to be proved, and compelled his pupils 
to examine it as closely as possible, and render it perfectly 
clear. The ancients^ said he, had oral statutes and trea- 
tises ; the moderns teach^ j^dge^ and heal by books. Skill 
in interpreting, therefore, is indispensable to all profession- 
al men. Indeed, law students often derived as much ben- 
efit from these exercises, as theological ; to whom, as the 
sacred Scriptures are to be explained after the manner of 
men, every thing in this respect, is of the greatest impor- 
tance. The theme for discussion was always selected a 
fortnight beforehand. Politics, philosophy and theology, 
alternated with history and philology, in furnishing sub- 
jects. Of these subjects, a person called a questor, kept 
a regular list in a book, which must still be extant. A 
dissertation written on it was criticised on Tuesday or 
Wednesday, and, when purified by their fiery ordeal, was 



AS A TEACHER. 125 

submitted to the attacks of opponents. The master's final 
opinion with his strictures and remarks upon the character 
of the given definition, the validity of the proof, the cor- 
rectness of the language, and the divisions of the subject, 
was waited for with great anxiety. Often, he overturned 
the whole fabric and erected anew and far more excellent 
one in its stead, developing the most striking views as he 
went on. It then seemed as if the noon-day sun had all at 
once burst through a thick veil of clouds. The opponent 
had certainly prepared himself as far as possible, and many 
believed they had learned the art of maintaining their 
point from the master himself. The struggle was violent. 
Soon, however, the most obstinate was disarmed and com- 
pelled to yield, by a series of questions, which reduced his 
positions to absurdities^ or by the application of some logi- 
cal rule, such as, that which proves too much proves noth- 
ing at all. It was often the case, that a single remark of 
his, two or three words in length, thrown into a long series 
of proof drawn up by the opponent in excellent battle ar- 
ray, entirely destroyed the whole of it. If such an oppo- 
nent arrogantly relied upon his youthful powers, or appeal- 
ed to sacred truths and venerable names, he certainly had 
hard times, and in the end, as a punishment for his temer- 
ity, was overwhelmed by the master with biting sarcasm. 
For some time also, Reinhard held a conversational exer- 
cise once a fortnight^ exclusively with the ordinaries. On 
such occasions, he most familiarly imparted to them his 
views upon theological subjects. The most difficult passa- 
ges of Scripture, such as Gen. 32 : 24 — 32, 1 Cor. 11 : 
10, were talked about, and the most noted and valuable 
books brought from their hiding places. Before this insti- 
tute was thoroughly established, however, it was broken up, 
by Reinhard's removal to Dresden. A small monthly tax 
was also levied upon each member of the above named 
association, out of which a little capital was formed for de- 
fraying the expenses of printed discussions held from time 
to time, by way of trial, under Reinhard. They all exhi- 
bit the spirit of the master. Some of them were defended 
by him in his Opuscula. Others, however, clearly evince 
their youthful origin, by their style. An irreproachable 
moral character was an indispensable requisite for any one 
*11 



126 HEINMAflD 

who would belong to this intellectual association for any 
length of time. To this regulation, the master was able 
Inexorably to adhere, in spite of earnest entreaties and 
sounding acquisitions. The more fiery the head and ready 
the tongue, provided it was not guilty of mere chattering, 
so much the more welcome the scholar. Nothing; but 
learning and acuteness would pass. The overseer, how- 
ever, who knew how to draw the reins, as well as to in- 
dulge in ridicule, led them all to the same sacred goal, — 
to the truth. The sparks here enkindled, often burst out 
into a flame, and continue^ to blaze during life. Those 
who belonged to this association of select persons, even 
now, think of these genuine academical exercises in the 
old sense of the word, with grateful recollections. 

In the second period of Reinhard's residence at the 
university, from 1784 to 1792, when preaching became 
one of the sacred duties of his office, he felt himself un- 
able conscientiously, any longer to refrain from complying 
with the pressing invitations of the , students, to engage in 
homiletical exercises. Accordingly, a little society was 
formed for this purpose, composed of 16 ordinary mem- 
bers, and a greater number of extraordinary. From each 
of the ordinary members in turn, was required the plan 
of a sermon, and a w^eek after it was exan)ined, a sermon 
wrhten after this plan, and most carefully finished. From 
the extraordinary members was required nothing but plans 
handed in, agreeably to a particular order. Sometimes 
the ordinaries had to form plans and write out sermons 
upon the Gospel texts, at others, upon the epistolary, and 
sometimes propositions were given out for occasional ser- 
mons. Both the sermons and the plans were delivered to 
the president, as Reinhard was called, two days before hand, 
and on Monday evening, between five and six, he went over 
them. It was a feast on such occasions, to listen to his 
criticisms. Often, there were two hundred persons present, 
all true worshippers of Themis and Hygeia. The plans 
were first read aloud and dissected. The authors of these 
plans then made their appearance, and, by means of the 
Socratic art, were relieved of their difficulties, and cor- 
rected, wherever they were wrong or indefinite. A plan 
was generally returned with improvements, and often ac- 



AS A TEACHER. 127 

companied with a new one. The objections of its author, 
were solicited and the replies he gave, carefully weighed, 
and fully answered by the important and acute sugg'-.stions 
of the president. In criticising the sermons, Reinhard 
looked mainly after logical periods, plain dignified expres- 
sions, and correct conclusions. As he passed on, he often 
read a period which was too long and intricate, before the 
audience, and showed how impossible it would be, to de- 
claim it in an eloquent manner. The principal rules he 
laid down were the following : The exordium begins with 
singles, and ascends to the general of the theme. The 
theme must be divested of all obscurity, and made as 
specific as possible, otherwise it cannot be exhausted or 
rendered attractive. The practical view of a subject 
must always gain something by the theoretical. No posi- 
tions should be proved but doubtfi:! ones, or those which 
pre-suppose doubts. The theme must be wholly contain- 
ed in the text, but not lie immediately upon the face of 
it, nor be a subtility. The parts must follow after 
each other in natural order, sustain each other, and be- 
come clearer as they advance. The sub-divisions must 
not be named before hand, as it will terrify the audience 
with the prospect of a long sermon. The conclusion 
must be as elevated and touching, as possible ; first, we 
must have light, then heat. He made ^various valuable 
reflections also, as he went along ; as for instance, he ban- 
ished hypotheses from the pulpit and would never draw a 
proof from the apocryphal books, this being opposed to 
the Augsburg Confession ; and hence, no allusion to any of 
these books, is to be found in his printed sermons. What- 
ever he saidof a psychological character was particularly in- 
teresting ; as for instance, when he advised his pupils to 
speak with great tenderness of the sin of .pleasure, as vo- 
luptuaries will listen to heart-felt language, but run away 
from threats. With this homiletical society, was connect- 
ed a reading establishment, to which each member con- 
tributed a few pence every month. Books of a theologi- 
cal, philosophical, and historical character, to the number 
of fifty a week, having been selected and examined by 
Reinhard, whom nothing excellent escaped in this respect, 
were thus brought into circulation. Reinhard's pulpit ad- 



128 REINHARD 

dresses, however, which were of a most masterly charac- 
ter and regularly delivered every Sunday and festival, in 
the University Church, while he was provost, crowned his^ 
labors. On these occasions, he practically exhibited those 
precepts which he had taught with such clearness theoret- 
ically in his preparatory exercises. His sermons had 
been carefully worked out and committed to memory, and 
his action, enunciation and entire mode of address were 
so perfect, as scarcely to leave any thing more to be wish- 
ed for. Of course, others applied Reinhard's measure to. 
themselves and endeavored to imitate him.^ His sermons 
were certainly approved of by those who professed to be 
scholars, and but few ever found fault with them. They 
were full of soul-animating addresses, individual referen- 
ces, and allusions, especially to the students, w^ho took no- 
tice of the gentlest whispers directed to them, and the im- 
pression they produced was so great, as often to last for 
one's whole life. It sometimes seemed as if an electric 
shock had passed through the assembly. Especially was 
this the effect of the concluding words of the second part 
of a sermon printed by request, which he delivered on the 
afternoon of Good Friday in 1778, from John 17 : 12, en- 
titled ; How happy shall we depart^ if like Jesus we leave 
no one behind us whom we ought to have pitied. Rein- 
hard, who was characterized by his severiiy toward him- 
self, and his mildness towards others, has expressed him- 
self much too severely respecting these sermons. It is 
true, they are not adapted to a country congregation, but 
the reason is manifest, for they were prepared for, and de- 
livered to, such hearers as we usually find in a University 
Church ; and such sermons should be composed and ap- 
plied very differently from those delivered to an audience 
of ignorant people. Only eighteen 'of these sermons have 
as yet been printed, though a handsome and very useful 

* " I never heard Reinhard preach but once, which was a great many years 
ago. 1 well remember, however, that his enunciation was perfectly clear 
and distinct, though I thought he spoke too fast, and observed some traces of 
a foreign dialect, (peregrinilas,) in his pronunciation, especially in his doubling 
tiome consonants, which cannot be considered as a fault, however, as Germany 
has no Athens, Rome or Paris, to decide in matters of this kind. I thought 
his action livelier than that of most of the preachers 1 had then heard. His 
gestures were generally of an indefinite character, indicating a deep sympathy 
in his discourse rather than an attempt at visible representation/' 1'zsch- 
irner's Briefe, S. 246 ff. 



AS A TEACHER. 129 

selection might be made out of them, amply worthy of the 
public. 

It was not merely as a preacher, however, that Rein- 
hard stood fortli as a pattern of excellence. He was dis- 
tinguished for his genuine religious conscientiousness, and 
by it, produced a visible effect not only upon his hearers, 
but all with whom he had to do. A few words from him 
were ofien sufficient to quell very stormy appearances. 
He never sacrificed a single hour to pleasure, wliich ought 
to be devoted to his business as a teacher. He never 
failed to preach every Sunday and festival when in good 
health, the three Sundays and festivals after fasts and 
feasts, excepted. He delivered his lectures punctually, 
and by no consideration whatever, could be induced to 
break in upon his firmly established order. First my duty 
and then my pleasure, he used to say, as he excused him- 
self from accepting invitations to indulge in relaxation, or 
take a repast with a stranger at an unseasonable hour. 
And to what an extent did he carry his activity ! When 
we reflect, that, in addition to the sermons he carefully 
wrote out and delivered, and the homileiical exercises and 
discussions to which he attended, he, to the no srnall of- 
fence of his more idle colleagues, read four lectures daily ; 
that while he did so, he conscientiously attended to his 
other academical duties, his business as an auihor, and 
the labors of the consistory, being then assessor of the 
consistory at Wittemberg , that at the same time, he save 
private instruction to his wife's son and oihers who desired 
it, carried on an extensive correspondence, and zealously 
pursued his own studies ; — when we reflect upon all this, 
it seems almost impossible to conceive, why his body, fee- 
ble as it was, did not sink under the burden. To what 
has already been said of him, should be added the inno- 
cence and simplicity of his character. He took an es- 
pecial interest in poor students. Out of his own income, 
he yearly applied not a small sum to the supply of their 
wants. It is true, that from constant efforts, the serious 
nature of his employment and the effects of sickness, his 
countenance had acquired a degree of severity ; yet he 
received all who requested to see him, with sincere affa- 
bility. He never promised, however, what he could not 



130 REIN HARD 

perform^ and hence, while at Wittemberg, he had the uni- 
versal esteem of its inhabitants. His domestic life, also, 
was a pattern of excellence. While a student, and after 
he became a private teacher, he made the severe goddess 
Peneia his inseparable, household companion ; and even 
after he began to lecture, took a glass of water for 
his breakfast, a cup of coffee for his dinner, and some 
warm food for his frugal supper. To this temperate 
mode of living, he faithfully adliered even after he was 
married. He labored incessantly until 7 o'clock in the 
evening, a little excursion in his garden excepted ; from 
that time to eight, read papers, jo'irnals, and amusing 
works, or entertained hiuiself with the friends who often 
called upon him at this hour and partook with him of his 
evening's repast. Precisely at 10 o'clock, they went 
away and he retired lo rest. Thus passed his life while 
at Wittemberg. It was to the highest degree regular, loi 
^ditirn to all this, he heliS the most familiar intercourse 
with the wise and good around, and, in an especial 'sense, 
shared the hearty sympathy and love of a wife tenderly 
devoted lo him ; and when he left the place where he had 
lived and acted so much like an unwearied philanthropist 
and Christian sage, he was followed with tears of grati-* 
tude, reverence and love. 



IV. Reinhard at Dresden, 

In 1792, Reinhard became chief court preacher at 
Dresden, — a station which he occupied, ui til death. The 
years of activity which he spent in this ecclesiastical sta- 
tion, one of the most important as it is, in Saxony, must 
be considered in close connexion with the course of pre- 
paration he passed through, in teaching,, preaching and 
writing, while at the university. Without having gone 
through such a course, he would hardly have become the 
powerful, perfect, ever new. interesting and inexhaustible 
orator; the critical examiner of youths and those called 
to teach, fill prot'essorships at the universities, and attend 
to the cure of souls ; the ever watchful, honest, wise, and 
prudent overseer of the most important institutions of the 



AS A PREACHER, ETC. 131 

country ; and the finished writer, thorough and splendid 
investigator, constant deviser of good, and paternal coun- 
sellor in awakening, admonishing and warning thousands 
at home and abroad, which he in reality did. In these 
respects, his university life must be considered as having 
laid the foundation of his usefulness while at Dresden, 
though he daily grew in wisdom, experience, and perfec- 
tion. In nothing, however, was he a more worthy exam- 
ple to his contemporaries, and in nothing is the secret of 
his great usefulness more evidently to be sought, than in 
his internal piety, Christian humility, courage in the cause 
of truth, and his self-control ; in which respects, he un- 
derwent do change in the several stations to which he was 
called, but that of regular progression. I cannot here en- 
ter into a detailed examination of all his excellencies in 
these respects, says Bottiger, nor think of developing them 
as a biographer should do. A few passing remarks must 
suffice. 

One of the most important duties connected with the 
station of ecclesiastical councillor, is, to hold examinations 
in the chief consistory for licensing young men to preach 
the Gospel. In performing these duties, therefore, Rein- 
hard reaped great benefit from the academical exercises 
to which he had attended in homiletics and polemics, 
while at the university. These examinations were usually 
held twice a year, and always in the Latin language. On 
such occasions, very vivid discussions took place between 
Reinhard and the superintendents, and the room, as might 
be expected, was thronged with persons who admired his 
conversational eloquence, and his skill in developing 
thought, even thougli they disapproved of the vivacity with 
which the examination itself was conducted and the learn- 
ing displayed."^ Having for sixteen years, as professor 
and president, directed discussions with a spirit of vivacity 
and love, and accustomed himself to dialectical forms, he 
could not easily refrain from using them, whenever duty 
and office presented an occasion. The lively manner in 
which Reinhard conducted these consistorial exercises, 
certainly did not spring from any trifling effort to please 

^ Reinhard was often complained of, in these respects. See Tzschimer'f 
Eede bei Reinhard's Gedachiuissfeier, in Leipzig; S. 34. 



132 REINHARD 

the listening multitude, or a want of self-control. It was 
the natural result of his clear and quick penetration, and 
the habits he had acquired, while at Witiemberg. His 
only object, during the short time allotted him for these 
exercises, was, to try the mind in those things in which, 
formulas committed to memory, can be of no use. Hence, 
he inquired less after the opinions of candidates, than their 
objections. These, he sometimes apparently made his 
own ; while he frequently supposed doubtful cases in the 
question, and thus sought, not to show his own superiority, 
but to give his opponents an opportunity to show them- 
selves ; and happy he was, when he found them on the 
right side. As his conversation assumed a very definite 
and logical character, every skilful man readily perceived 
what he was about, and rejoiced at his mode of proceed- 
ing. None but the ignorant trembled before him or 
complained of his want of forbearance, as those who can 
hardly sustain an examination, are accustomed to do. 
Happy the land which has such spiritual directors and 
guardians of the ministry, as a Reinhard and a Tiitmann, 
both of whom were prepared for the stations they occupi- 
ed, not only by deep piety, but the previous course of 
studies through which they had gone, ai the university. 

And how necessary to qualify Reinhard for this very 
station, was the classical education which he had receiv- 
ed in the ancient languages ! In the excellent and well 
regulated high schools of Saxony, the Latin had early 
been cultivated to a very great degree of perfection. At 
the Saxon universities, no one can distinguish himself to 
any considerable degree, who is unable to read and write 
this language with ease and elegance. Of course, a chief 
court preacher in Saxony, whose business it is, to super- 
intend all these institutions and their examinations, must, if 
he is what he ought to be, be a perfect and thorough critic 
in this respect. It was a matter of duty, therefore, and 
not merely of ornament, that Reinhard should be able to 
express himself with as much beauty and fluency in this 
learned language, as in the German. The Greek, how- 
ever, was his favorite. He did not suffer a single year to 
pass away without reading some books of the Odyssey, 
which, as regards practicalness, he considered superior to 



AS A PREACHER, ETC. 133 

the Iliad, and some of Demosthenes' orations and 
Plato's dialogues, or one of the Greek moralists, which 
he called his preacher's Magazine. He preferred Po- 
lybius, however, above all others. He attended closely 
to the oriental languages of the Bible, had made con- 
siderable progress in them, and was by no means un- 
acquainted with the Arabic. The three principal lan- 
guages of Europe he read with facility. All these ac- 
quisitions, however, a thinker as he was, he looked upon 
solely as his instruments. To the circle of the theologi- 
cal sciences, with which he was acquainted in the most 
extensive sense,^ he added a thorough and intimate knowl- 
edge of philosophy and history, which he considered as 
the most important subjects of investigation and study. 
Of the use which he made of the former in sermonizing, 
he has told us in his Confessions. Indeed, one has only 
to read his sermons, not even his later ones excepted, 
to be constrained to confess, that their greatest beauty 
consists in the philosophical truths and proofs they contain. 
He had extended his investigations into the various 
branches of the modern philosophy, the Idealistic as well 
as the Pantheistic and JVeological^ and written upon them 
in his letters in a strain of the most excellent criticism, — for 
the last time, in a letter to Professor Weiss of Naumburg, 
upon the work, Concernirg the living God. The boun- 
daries to which he always confined himself in this 
field, are pointed out, in what he says of his creed, 
in his preface to the third edition of his Moral, This, 
with which however should be connected his preface 
to Crell's Phyrrho and Philalethes, is the only place in 
which he has published his opinion upon this subject ; 
though, in conversation, he often expressed his aversion to 
the phantasms, errors, and mysticisms which were inces- 
santly springing up like weeds, in this field. He was cer- 
tainly ready to do justice to every system and speculation 
which did not exclude genuine piety, and, by means of so- 
phistical arts, puzzle the minds of youth. Krug and 
Schulz, both his pupils, and two of the most eloquent and 
acute teachers of this philosophy in Leipsic and Gottingen, 

* Doederlein pronounced Reinhard the second theologian in Germany. 
Reinhard's Dogniatik, Preface, ed. Berger. 

12 



134 



REINHARD 



will confirm this; and should they write down their own 
views and experience for this purpose, would erect the 
most beautiful monument to the memory of their well re- 
membered teacher and friend. Psychology, however, was 
Rein hard's favorite study, and every thing which had the 
remotest reference to it, attracted his whole attention. He 
was one of the most attentive hearers of Dr. Gall's psy- 
chological lectures in the summer of 1805, and bore testi- 
mony to the fulness of his observations and the richness of 
his imagination, though he shook his head at some of his 
deductions. To the author of a Moral grounded as Rein- 
hard's was, and to a pulpit orator, whose object was, to 
find sometl]ing which would go home to his hearers, and 
induce them to look into their own bosoms, this study nat- 
urally presented a wide, most useful, and inviting field. 

He dwelt more in the history of all ages and nations, 
than many professors of history. In this case his meniory, 
always good at retaining matters of fact, served him well. 
For the sole purpose of completing his work Respecting a 
trifling spirit ^'^ he had, while academical teacher, read the 
whole of Plutarch's Lives, and, with rare diligence, studi- 
ed the sources of ecclesiastical history, in which all mod- 
ern history originates. Schrcickh was his teacher in this 
department, and became his confidential friend. During 
the latter part of his life, he formed an intimate acquaint- 
ance with Jolin von iV]iiller,f whose unfeigned piety he 
considered as a most valuable quality. He first became 
acquainted with this man on a journey to Vienna, in 1802, 
in the imperial library, where he found him like a lord in 
his own dominions, and in him discovered both a political 
and Christian brother. From that time, they constantly 
maintained a correspondence with each other. In the 
summer of 1806, Miiller visited Reinhard at Dresden for 
the second time, J and hearirig him preach respecting the 
improvahility of human nature^ promised to take notice of 

* Ueberden Kleinigkeits^eist in der Siltenlehre, Mrisen, 1801. 

t A native of Schafhausen where he was born, January the 3d, 1752, anda 
celebrated historian, author of a great number of publications. He firmly ad- 
hered to the old orthodox system of faith, and died May 29th, 1809. His last 
words were : Every thing which is, is from God, and evenj thing comes from 
God. 

X Compare J. v, MQller's Letters to bis brother, Werke. Th. VII. Si 41 
and 214. 



AS A PREACHER, ETC, 135 

the subject, in publishing his universal history ; for Rein- 
hard asserted, that the progress of the human race was 
most intimately connected with a belief in the improvabil- 
ity of the individual, and that he who doubted this last po- 
sition, could not be a Christian. Reinhard looked upon 
history as a third revelation, giving us an account of the 
great family of God. He would have made an admirable 
historian had not other^luties and callings prevented ; and 
he often complained, both orally and in his letters, that no 
occasion had presented, for gratifying his wishes in this re- 
spect."^ To be convinced of this, one needs only to glance 
at his work Respecting Christ^s plan, which has been the 
means of confirming thousands in the truth. This work, 
which no one has of late more finely apprehended, or more 
correctly estimated, than the ingenious Dr. Blessig of 
Strasburg.f has long been looked upon by judges, not only 
on account of the internal siren2;th and the conclusiveness of 
the reasoning, but also the genuine historical skill displayed 
in the invention and the arrangement of the points of compar- 
ison, as well as tlie newness of the resuhs drawn from long 
established matters of fact, as the best apology for Christian- 
ity that modern times have produced. The first outlines 
of this work, which was occasioned by the same attacks 
upon the founder of Christianity, as Eberhard's Amyntor 
about this time, were delivered in an academical production. 
Soon afterwards, he received pressing invitations from all 
quarters, to extend them and publish them for the sake of 
readers at large ; the result of which, w^as, the appearance 
of the first edition of the Plan m year 1781, the fourth 
and last edition of which, under the superintendence of the 
author, was published in 1798. Particularly worthy of 
notice is that part of this work added to the fourth edition, 
in which he shows, that Jesus did not avail himself of a se- 
cret society for the execution of his plan. The parasiti- 
cal plan of a secret, mystical and magical society, which 

* " Had I ^iven myself up to my inclinations, I should have cultivated no 
field with greater pleasure, than that of history, but I have never found it possi- 
ble to do so. The circumstances and indispensable duties of my life, have 
always chained me down to oiher labors.'' Thus he expressed himself in a 
letter to Prof. Ko he of Jena, in liill. See Koihe; Ueber Reinhard's Leben 
und Bildung-, S. 44. 

t Sur 1' influence de la relig-ion protestante — Sermon de Reinhard — avec 
une notice sur Mr. Keinhard, Strasbourg, 1808, p, 50 — 55. 



136 RE IN HARD 

was then flourishing luxuriantly around the very throne in 
the Prussian state, and which pretended that Jesus made 
use of a secret society for the execution of his plan, in- 
duced the author ever attentive as he was, to the signs of 
the times, to show how entirely diffeient He thought upon 
the subject, who came into the world to bear testimony to 
the truth. From this time, Reinhard seized every oppor- 
tunity which presented, for unre^rvedly expressing his 
disapprobation of the obscurities of mystical societies, and, 
faithful to iiis opinion, publicly censured even those harm- 
less societies, whose internal character he could not exam- 
ine for himself. His original object in projecting the work 
respecting Christ's plan, however, was to give a popular 
and historical estimation of all the proofs for the truth of 
Christianity. His psychological essay Upon mij'acles, the 
first, part of which alone has been printed, was intended 
for the beginning of it ;■ — a production, which also shows 
that the author had the parts necessary to make an excel- 
lent historian, and is worthy of being drawn from the ob- 
scurity in which it is concealed. 

Another proof of his talents for a historian may be drawn 
from his Reformation Sermons. These sermons were de- 
livered on reformation festival in the Castle, or Seminary 
Church at Wittemberg. Deeply affected at beholding the 
graves of the reformers, which always stood in view, and 
even a drunken and victorious Charles had commanded to 
be spared,"^ and glowing with the spirit of a Luther and 
Bugenhagen, he endeavored in each succeeding sermon 
for these occasions, to select such a topic out of the mul- 
titude in history, as seemed most important and calculated 
to produce the greaiest effects. At one time, he express- 
ed his warm and decided disapprobation of the frivolous 
conceitedness with which some had endeavored to under- 
mine the doctrines of the reformation, and declared them 
altogether untenable ; at another, he came forward and 
boldly defended Protestantism against the objections which 
had been raised against it, to bring it into suspicion ; at a 
third, he showed, that the doctrine of free grace through 
Jesus Christ, the very corner stone of the reformation, 

'' * Charles the Great. Compare PoHtz, in Heiprich's Handbuch der Sachs, 
Geschicbte;Il,266. 



AS A PREACHER, ETC. 137 

had to a great extent, been rejected ; at a fonrtb, in the 
spirit of Heeren and Villers, he gave a powerful and faith- 
ful exhibition of the results of this divine work. To do 
this last, in a connected and well arranged manner, and 
acconripany it with notes and excursions, was a task which 
he often attempted, and the work carried out as it has 
been by one well acquainted with history and possessed of 
a kindred spirit, while it completely justifies our belief of 
the author's historical acuteness, will be productive of the 
happiest results.^ To the same purpose, however, we 
might quote many others of his most successful sermons, 
in which he makes only gentle allusions to affairs in which 
he took an interest of a kind far different from that com- 
mon to the every day readers of newspapers. 

It was Reinhard's extensive knowledge of history which 
enabled him to execute his Christian Ethics, or Moral, 
as he did, — a work which established his immortality as a 
writer. f This work, comprised in five volumes, which is 
not founded upon the transcendental speculations of any 
particular school, but the common sense of all the cultivat- 
ed nations of ancient and modern Europe, and hence, 
must be of permanent value, is full of the richest psycho- 
logical and historical remarks, and is pervaded by a spirit 
of the most enlightened and heartfelt Christianity. It is 
known to be the fruit of his oft repeated lectures and 
most strenuous and conscientious investigations, while at 
Wittemberg. Indeed, the two first parts of it were pub- 
lished while he resided there. We may boldly say, that 
Reinhard was the first who entered into a detailed exami- 
nation of the great law and means for ennobling our nature, 
and his extensive learning and deep piety certainly well 
qualified him for the undertaking. Christian morality, the 
object of which is to make men perfect like their Father in 

* C. R. Seidel, an intelligent publisher, of Sulzbach. Reinhard had obtained 
possession of ihe eleoi-ant English quarto edition of Roscoe's Life and Pontifi- 
cate of Leo the X, with fine wooden cuts, and given it a careful examination. 
AVhai Seidel and Reinhard left unfinished, Dr. Tzschirner the coniinuator of 
fichrockh's Church History, undertook lo perform. 

t System der Christlichen Moral, 5te Aufl. improved and enlarged in five 
volumes. This work is worthy of all the commendation which Bottiger, from 
whom the following is taken, bestows upon it. We may question whether there 
is any thing of a similar character equal to it 5 certainly there is not in theEng-- 
lish language, into which, barren as we are of systematical ethical works, it 
«-ught to be translated. 

*12 



138 REINnARD 

Heaven, supposeshuQian nature to be possessed of a grand 
bias or instinct for maturity and perfection."^ Accordingly, 
Reinhard's entire Moral is founded upon nothing in itself 
considered, but upon the safer principles of psychology 
and the Bible. This system is perfectly consistent 
and this work as it regards practicalness, contains 
an inexhaustible fund of information for the edification 
and improvement of all Christians and teachers, hov^ 
much so ever their speculative views and creeds may 
differ from each other. It unites solidity with clear- 
ness, and the most mature reading with the most thorough 
acquaintance with {he human heart. As out of regard to 
the first purchasers he avoided making any essential change 
in its original order, the latter part of it almost necessarily 
contains some amended repetitions. As a whole, howev- 
er, it resembles a beautiful palace, for every part of the 
superstructure of v^hich, the master workman made calcu- 
lations in the foundation. It was a source of great an- 
guish, and the last with which Reinhard had to contend, 
that he was unable to complete this work. The two first 
questions to which Reinhard had to attend, in Christian 
ethics, were : What is rnan, and what is he to become ? 
To these questions he attended in the three first parts. A 
third now remained to be answered : namely. By what 
means is man to be made, what he is to become ? or in a word, 
to Christian ascetics^ of which Reinhard at first undertook 
to give a connected representation in the fourth part. In 
the course of his investigations, however, carrying them 
out as he did to every point and drinking in truth from 
every quarter, he found himself unable to exhaust the 
subject in one volume. He was obliged in the first place 
to prove what has so often been questioned ; the improva- 
bilily of human nature. With this proof he begins the 
fourth part of his Christian Ethics, in which he gives the 
most satisfactory results, respecting the problem with 
which Herder in his Ideen-f has occupied himself so 
much ; Whether this can be proved from the history of 
the worlds In this case also, Reinhard shows how well 
he was qualified for a historian. To effect this improve- 

* Christl, Moral, Th. T. S. 64. 

f Ideen zu einer Philosophie der Gesch. der Menchheit^ 4 Thle. Riga. 1792. 



AS A PREACHER, ETC. 139 

ment of human nature, higher aid is necessary, as the 
Gospel leaches us. Here then comes in the whole doc- 
trine respecting the gracious operations of the Holy Spir- 
it, which has so often been misunderstood by Mystics and 
Rationalists. Of course, it was necessary to exhibit this 
doctrine in a practical point of view. To this succeeded 
the doctrines of the reasons and motives which lead man 
to aim at goodness, of which he gave an entirely new 
representation. Having then laid down five fundamental 
positions forjudging of the means by which virtue is to be 
attained, he proceeds to a lucid examination and illustra- 
tion of them separately. Having said thus much of the 
means of virtue, the author then enters upon what is call- 
ed practical ethics, or ethical gymnastics ; that is, upon 
a scientific explanation of all the means and rules which 
have ever been made use of or ever can be, for extirpat- 
ing evil and implanting good, according to the precepts of 
reason and the Gospel. Into what a field of phenomena 
and errors, both without and within the circle of monkish 
asceticism and of mysticism, are we here introduced ! He 
who in company with this skilful raystagogue, passes through 
the whole of this wonderful gallery of efforts, sometimes 
bordering upon the most enthusiastic phrenzy, at others, 
the most exalted self-denial, will hesitate whether most to 
admire the extensive reading of the learned and pious au- 
thor, his practical views, or his pecuhar gift at representa- 
tion. Faithful to the division of his subject into those means 
of virtue which are somewhat sensuous,'^ and those which 
are are purely spiritual, the author continues to trace out 
to the end of the -fourth part, all the sensuous means of 
virtue with which the nature of the subject presented him. 
The fifth and last part, of which only twelve sheets were 
printed at the time of his death, begins with those 5e?z5w- 
OM5meansof virtue which are expressly recommended and 
prescribed by the Christian religion, in which, as so many 
memorials to his own and succeeding generations, he gives 



* Senstwiis, that is concerned with, or addressed 407^ e senses. In this 
sense the word has been used by some late English writers upon philosophy^ 
at least by Coleridge,— a use to which they are driven by necessity, the word 
sensual, having nearly lost this speciScal meaning; and being generally em- 
ployed to express whiat is carnal. 



140 REINHARD 

the results of his views respecting the use of the sacred 
Scriptures, the public worship of God, and the two sacra- 
ments of baptism and the Lord's Supper. He then, in a 
second division, comes to the consideration of the purely 
spiritual means of virtue, which he has pi^eviously named 
(§430,) which are confined in part to ourselves, consisting 
ill collection of mind, self-examinalion, self-observation 
and rational self-enjoyment; in part are directed to other 
objects, consisting in pious contemplation, and in part are 
directed entirely to God, consisting in the pious union of 
feeling and prayer. He then speaks of the importance of 
firmly adhering to productive principles and practical rules, 
exercising a voluntary self-denial, and maintaining a care- 
ful watchfulness over ourselves, in order to true improve- 
ment, and concludes with the origin of true improvement 
and the gradual approximation of men to perfection. Of 
course, the last sheets have not received those final cor- 
rections, finishing strokes, and clear remarks, which he 
usually gave his works when about to send them to the 
press ; for he was interrupted in the midst of his labor 
by his call to a higher world. From v^hat has been said, 
we can easily perceive, what farther the author's plan 
comprehended which has not as yet been carried out in de- 
tail ; for he has left the second grand division, Vv/hich was 
to constitute the finishing stone of the whole well arranged 
and noble building, including moral pedagogics and the 
doctrines of education, almost wholly untouched. This 
was a work which lay near Reinhard's heart, and one from 
which he anticipated much good, and to its completion he 
looked forward as to the goal of his wishes. He left it 
unfinished indeed, but the will of the Lord is done.^ 

'This work on Christian Etliics,' says Bottiger, 'may 
also be considered as the rich and inexhaustible repertory 
of his sermons, now amounting in all, to about thirty-nine 
volumes. These sermons every where contain clear and de- 
finite allusions to this work, by which means its use for min- 
isters is greatly facilitated. They constitute one of the most 

* What Reinbard left unprinted of the manuscript to the fifth part of his 
Moral, has since been published word for word as he left it, under the inspec- 
tion of P. C. W. Graf von Hohenlhal, (who married Reinhard's widow m 
1815;) and furnished with the requisite indexes by C. Fr. Bartzsch of Pirna* 



AS A PREACHER, ETC. 141 

splendid memorials we can have, of this great man. They 
are adapted to the wants of our German churches, are 
rich in thought, abound in the exposition of errors, and in 
genuine explanations of the Bible, and to every believer 
in revelation capable of reading them, are invaluable as a 
means of edification, and will doubtless exert great influ- 
ence in improving the human race. Indeed, they may 
be considered as a safe guide to almost every step of that 
spiritual ladder which connects earth with heaven, and as 
long as the German language endures, will be read, quot- 
ed and admired, for their simplicity, elegant diction,, clear- 
ness and fulness of thought and overflowing piety. They 
are admirable specimens of invention, easy and natural de- 
velopment of thought from a given text, facility and reg- 
ular progress in arrangement, and continuing tlie power of 
convincing from one position to anotlier, and of an elo- 
quence chaste and symmetrical in all its parts ; and are 
samples of reasoning and strength which none but such 
an ingenious admirer of Cicero and Demosthenes as he 
was, could have produced. He imitated no one, but he 
will long be imitated by persons who cannot attain to his 
degree of perfection."^ While on a visit to one of the 
large cities of Germany, in attending the public worship 
of God, he listened to one of his own sermons. He 
smiled at the incident, but he always censured those who 
attempted slavishly to imitate his manner of preaching. 
To those who wished to be saved, however, his sermons 
were peculiarly valuable for their warm devotional spirit, 
and their power to take hold of the conscience. The 
truths they contained were drawn from the Gospel, and 
the manner in which these truths were exhibited, and the 
spirit that breathed in every page, were such, as could have 
come from none but a man of Reinhard's learning, who 
had attained to satisfying " views, by passing through the 
most violent struggles, and felt confident, that what he ut- 
tered was from God. They are built upon the Bible, and 

* Of the invention, arrangement, and composition, of these sermons, the au- 
thor himself has imparted to us sufficient information in his Confessions. Va- 
rious writers in Saxony and elsewhere have also given them a rig'id examina- 
tion 5 among whom may be named, W'SLchter, Greiling, Grafe, Schott, Dr, 
Blessig, and Tzschirner. The last is very judicious and discriminating. See 
B.riefe;&c.S.90,ff. 



142 



REINHARD 



as long as the Bible endures, they will be read as a source 
of edification and consolation by all who sigh after the 
quickening influences of God's spirit. Many of them 
have been translated into the Danish, French, and Dutch, 
a few into the English, and one of his Reformation ser- 
mons was translated into the French by Dr. Blessig of 
Strasburg, a man of a kindred spirit, accompanied with 
many precious additions. To these sermons, the author 
devoted his clearest, brightest, and best hours. Each of 
them cost him equal labor.' 

In the year 1808, Reinhard was commissioned by the 
highest authority, to select a new course of texts for two 
years, which, united with the old one, should constitute a 
regularly returning series for three years, to be used 
throughout the kingdom. This n^w course commenced 
in 1809. The evangelical Court Church however was a 
year ahead of the other churches in this respect. For 
this church, therefore, Reinhard was commissioned to 
make a new selection for the year 1811, in order that they 
might all come together in 1812. This gave Reinhard 
an opportunity to preach from three new series of texts 
for three years in succession, and enabled him to speak 
upon many subjects which he would not otherwise have 
done; and hence, this series of his sermons, is particularly 
valuable and of especial importance. Reinhard was ex- 
tremely fond of the historical texts which he had selected 
for the first year's course, and preached seventeen ser- 
mons of 2:reat value upon the most useful narratives of the 
Acts. The selections which he made for the church have 
since been most fully approved of, and as they had long 
been called for by the age, cannot in the strict sense of 
the word, be considered as his. He himself could have 
preached twenty years longer from the old series, as is 
evident from a book in which he has entered his themes."^ 

As Reinhard had'one of the most difficult of predeces- 
sors to sm-pass, even himself, the execution of his sermbns 
became yearly more and more laborious. Governed as 
he was by conscience in every sermon he wrote, he failed 
not to select the best subject he could deduce from the 
text in connexion with the circumstances under which he 

* Compare Reinhard's Moral; §. 360. Th. IV. 9. 



AS A PREACHER, ETC. 143 

was to speak, however disagreeable it might be to him. 
Those of his discourses which were prepared for particu- 
lar festivals of the year, are the most distinguished. Of 
his reformation sermons, I have already spoken. The ser- 
mons which he delivered on the assembling of the Diet, 
were in a measure consecrated to political affairs, as well 
as to ecclesiastical. The sermons which he delivered on 
the three great fasts which are yearly observed in Saxony, 
were mostly patriotic addresses of a purely evangelical 
character. As every Sunday was in a certain sense, de- 
voted to fasting and spiritual improvement, he felt it proper 
for him to devote these fasts to admonishing his fellow cit- 
izens 10 attend to the welfare of their native country ; it be- 
ing impossible, as he believed, for a nation to prosper, if 
unsustained by religion. The sermons which he delivered 
on Michaelmas almost always had a reference to the invisi- 
ble, spiritual kingdom of God ; those delivered on the 
feast of Mary's Purification, often contained directions for 
the Christian education of children. Of all his sermons, 
however, those delivered on Maundy -Thursday, at the 
celebratioujof the Lord's Supper, were the most interesting, 
full of reviving instruction as they were, and expressly 
adapted to the occasion. Tt should also be added, that 
Reinhard devoted great attention to those sermons which 
he composed from epistolary texts during the year 1806. 
Of course, numerous as Reinhard's sermons are and di- 
verse in kind, there is room enough for skilful hands, to 
make some happy selections out of them ;^ hut to attempt, 
as some have done, to give us Reinhard in a nutshell, is 
the most egregious folly, and seems to come little short of 
sacrilege. 

* Such selections have been attempted in Germany, with the approbation of 
Reinhard's friends, especially by Dr. Hacker, the editor of many of his ser- 
mons, and the collea^^iie next to him in the evangelical Court Church. 

Whether the English reader of Reinhard's sermons will fully assent to the 
above remarks upon them, drawn from Botliger is a matter of doubt. 
They show at least the estimation in which these sermons are held by evang-el- 
ica! Christians in Germany. I have chosen however to present the reader 
with Boitiger's opinion. Having- done so, but little room is left for saying' 
any thing more. Certain it is, that Reinhard's sermons exhibit rich thouo-ht, 
great powers of eloquence, and fervent piety. Those which he delivered in the 
latter part of his life, however, surpass those wliich he delivered while at Wit- 
temberg, and those which he delivered from texts of his own selection, or with- 
out being compelled to rack the given lesson of the day for an appropriate 
theme; are full of practical wisdom, glowing eloquence, and fervent piety. 



144 REINHARD 

Reinhard always preached memoriter. To do so, cost 
him severe labor, in the midst of which he often smiled at 
the artifices of Mnemonics, of which he at least made no use, 
and sometimes, and justly too, became indignant against 
those, who, out of laziness or self-conceit, neither accurately 
conceive nor commit to memory, and thus, in a little while, 
run without exception into the most striking superficiality. 
And indeed, who, when Reinhard, oppressed as he was 
by important duties, could find time to get his sermons by 
heart, will have the face to excuse himself m this respect, 
by alleging his want of time ? It is wonderful, and yet 
true, that Reinhard not only wrote out his sermons and 
committed them to memory, but often preached in this 
way three times a week, and was always perfectly himself. 
We can account for his ability to sustain such labor, only 
by the fact, that amidst his pains, sleepless nights and busy 
days, he was a man of prayer, and drew his strength from 
God. He always spoke with the glowing fire of eloquence, 
even when oppressed with disease, and seemed to derive 
the greatest benefit from the exercises of the pulpit. More 
than half of his audience, numerous as it was, was compos- 
ed of persons whom he had educated by preaching. In 
this respect, he well knew the duty of a minister, whether 
in the city or the country ; and he always maintained that 
a minister should attend to the education of his hearers, 
and not run from village to village. Whenever he preach- 
ed, stenographers w^ere employed to take down his ser- 
mons, and so faithfully did they execute their task, that 
their copies often agreed word for word with the original 
as it was afterwards printed. 

Reinhard made his duties as court preacher the first and 
principal object of his attention ;^ the numerous calls 

Most of the sermons above named with special approbation, may he read with 
^eat profit, and It may be added, that a selection of them, if well translated 
mto English, would constitute a valuable production. Let the reader, howev- 
er, constantly remember the palliating- circumstances under which ihese ser- 
mons were wrilien and delivered, if he feels inclined to complain of the differ- 
ence between them and some of our revival sermons. 

* Of his zeal in this respect, some estimate can be formed from the facts^ that, 
during the three last years of his life, his physicians and friends unanimously 
urged him to preach less frequently, as his efforts were wearing him out, and 
that the ministers of the conference sent to him a request that he would spare 
himself 5 but he always replied by alleging his very title, as an evidence that 
he was called to preach. 



AS A MINISTER, ETC. 146 

which came to him as an ecclesiastical and consistorial 
councillor of the kingdom, the second ; the oral and writ- 
ten advice requested by hundreds who looked to him for 
direction and instruction, the third ; and his business as an 
author, as delightful as either of the others, the fourth. 
Dr.Tittmann washisonly spiritual colleague, — a man equal- 
ly honored by the church, for his rare learning and fervent 
piety. Both, having unitedly to oversee the churches, 
schools, and universities of the country, had their hands full 
of business, though they found able coadjutors and enlight- 
ened promoters of their pjans in the public ministers and oth- 
ers,upon whom the execution of ecclesiastical affairs in Sax- 
ony, depend. Of Dr. Tittmann we may say, so great was 
his labor, that nothing but his acquaintance with business 
and firm attachment to the performance of duty, could 
have carried him through it all. 

Saxony has always been noted for her aversion to hasty- 
measures and reforms, and hence, often accused of adher- 
ing to the old system of things. Whenever the improve- 
ments proposed, however, have been of a solid charac- 
ter and have originated in conscientiousness, wisdom and 
integrity, they have readily been introduced into the con- 
stitutions of the church and state with which people had 
long felt themselves satisfied, but yet with silent, cautious, 
considerate steps, and feelings, which chose to act rather 
than to speak. Her movements might indeed be looked 
upon as slow in the judgment of anticipating rashness, 
but they closed the door to every wicked Epimethe- 
us, while they effectually opened it to every man of real 
knowledge, judgment and information. And such a man 
was Reinhard. He himself had doubted, examined and 
grasped, at every thing worthy of man. He tolerated, re- 
spected, and treasured up, the thoughts of others. In a 
certain sense, he honored the genuine Rationalist. He 
treated none but half enlighteners with contempt. Mer- 
chants and money changers he would not have in the tem- 
ple of God, and to them all he applied the v^^ords of the 
angel to the Church at Laodicea. In this and several 
other respects, he took the first great reformer at Wittem- 
berg for his pattern. He was never guilty in any respect, 
of persecuting or harshly treating those who thought diflfer- 
13 



146 REINHARD 

ently from himself. To every one who learnt his own les- 
son well, he showed kindness, while he left God to judge 
the heart. Hence, his influence and authority in Saxony 
are to be estimated as much by what he prevented, as by 
what he effected ; for few have exhibited equal Christian 
wisdom and forbearance. He gave his support to Protes- 
tantism, but he hated every thing like polemics, and be- 
lieved ihey always embitter without ever converting. 

It is true, he was averse to all those attempts at union 
which have been so loudly and so often talked about of 
late years, but the reason was, th^t he could see nothing 
in the signs of the times which gave him any hope of dis- 
covering a genuine henoticnm, while in the greatest ap- 
proximations to such a state, he perceived only a rigid in- 
difference, or a thoughtless sportiveness of the imagination. 
He united in his labors with those Catholics who were de- 
voted to the cause of truth, wrote a recommendatory pre- 
face to Leander Van Ess's translation of the Bible, and 
from the pulpit, charged his people to conduct witli Chris- 
tian forbearance towards those who thought differently 
from themselves,* arid he enjoyed the high satisfaction of 
having pious Catholic writers and ministers from a dis- 
tance, call to see him and hear him preach. He was not 
ignorant of the fact, that his printed sermons and his Moral 
were called for as much by Roman Catholics, as by his 
own denomination, and that his works were read in the 
Ecclesiastical Seminary at Vienna. Having always de- 
fended a firm rule of faith and the doctrines of the Bible 
as contained in the symbolical books of his church, without 
refining upon them or lowering ihem down, he was of 
course, preserved from difficulties, in which many honest 
Protestants, by giving themselves up to speculations, have 
been involved. In this respect, however, this persevering 
man, severely handled as he had been in some critical journ- 
als, for a sermon he preached a few years before,f had the 

* See his sermon upon toleration, Jahr^. 1807. Th. II. S. 169. ff. 

t This sermon which has been repeatedly referred to, and was translated 
into French by Dr. Blessig-, produced a very great sensation when delivered, 
and called down severe censures and remarks upon its author, Jt is from 
Rom. 3 : 23—25, and is entitled : Our church should never forget that she 
owes her existence to the resuscitation of the doctrine of salvation through the 
free grace of God in Jesus Christ. Ste the Sermons of 1800, Th. II. S. 270. 



AS A MINISTER, ETC. 147 

exalted satisfaction of seeing the erring, and those giddy 
with new doctrines come back to a more solid basis, and the 
periodicals of the day animated with a better spirit. 

He expressed liis opinion with undisguised boldness when- 
ever piety requiredjor he thought it would pruve the means 
of warning the unreflecting or improving the wicked; but, in 
all other cases, spoke wiih the greatest caution and reserve. 
Hence, he was always an excellent mediator and business- 
man, for exercising his talenis in which respects he had al- 
most daily opportunities in attending to numerous appeals 
made to him by able men connected with the universities 
and schools, in settling difficulties and balancing accounts 
with otlier persons, in overseeing these instituiions, in spe- 
cially superintending the two seminaries in Neustadt- 
Dresden and Weissenfels for country school-teachers, in 
making changes in the liturs^y, in giving the opinions and 
plans required of him by Protestants in foreign countries 
with reference to new resiulations and ecclesiasiical im- 
provements, and in maintaining a very extensive and highly 
valuable correspondence. To educate youth in such a 
manner as to make them better for better times, and ren- 
der them useful citizens, was one of the objects which lay 
nearest his heart ; and it was not seldom that hi^^ labors 
were productive of important effects in this respect. He re- 
joiced at the growth of the seminaries in Saxony for 
country school-teachers, and encouraged those, who either 
by calls or personal consecration, were actively enenged 
in their service. To this a Dinter and a Frisch could 
bear public testimony. The salaries of many of the 
country school masters were silently increased, while a 
remedy was provided for the inexcusable negligence of 
parents in sending their children to school, and'by express 
approbation and sudden promotion, the co-operation of 
the clergy was every where secured ; in the performance 
of which duties, he was often pained to discover the want 
of alacrity and conscientiousness with which many officers 
and magistrates conducted. With respect to the citizen 
schools as they are called, in the larger and smaller cities, 
which were under very bad regulations, he used to express 
himself without reserve. There were then at least a doz- 
en cities in Saxony, whose Lyceums and Latin schools 



148 reinhard's 

were in a wretched condition and needed remodelling af- 
ter the well organized citizen schools of Leipsic, Dresden, 
and Naumbiirg ; but which, owing to the jealousy with 
which the right of patronage was guarded, it was impossi- 
ble to touch. He rejoiced greatly on beholding the new 
fabric in Zittau, and the improvements made in female 
education in the captital and province. Thus this benev- 
olent man continued to labor, hope and love ; faiihful to 
the sphere assigned to him, but limited only by his oppor- 
tunities and talents in his efforts to do good, and his zeal con- 
tinued with unremitting diligence until death. His king ac- 
knowledged his merits ; for, in 1808, when Reinhard had 
received a very flattering call from the Prussian Court, he 
wrote to him declaring in the most positive terms the en- 
tire satisfaction he felt with the manner in which he had 
performed the duties of his station. In short, within the 
bounds of the most honest truth, we may say, that he 
made it his constant aim to become according to the old 
saying of Simonides, a square man in head, feet and hands.* 
Hence, he was a firm and unchangeable friend ; and the 
case must have been severe indeed, wliich made him 
withdraw from one with whom he was well acquainted, 
and whom, as he supposed, he had thoroughly tried. 



V. Reinhard's Habits, Character, he. 

' Reinhard,' says Tzschirner, ' presents us with a rare 
instance of glowing eloquence, combined with deep, ex- 
tensive learning, and continued to the end of life. The 
question, therefore, how he became what so few have be- 
come, the powerful orator, while he was the thorough 
scholar, well deserves attention. Some suggestions may 
be made by way of answering it. Nature had endowed 
him to an almost equal degree with the powers of thought 
and imagination, so that he was capable both of intense 
thinking and deep feeling. These powers were cultivated 
by close and ceaseless application to the most improving 
studies. His education was strictly of a philosophical 
tendency. He read the Bible, history, and the ancients, 

* See Plato's Protagoras, c. 72, 



CHARACTER, ETC. 149 

and attended to philosophical theology. He also applied 
himself closely to poetry, both the ancient poets and those 
of his own native country, and read thena more or less 
to the close of life. While philosophy, therefore, the 
mother of eloquence, guided his investigations, nourished 
his powers, and extended his points of observation, poetry, 
to which like all glowing minds, he was thoroughly attach- 
ed, though like Plato, he was wise enough to relinquish the 
poetic laurel, exerted her benign influence upon him, an- 
imated him, and warmed his heart. It should also be re- 
collected that Reinhard studied philosophy by profession, 
and hence, practically, and not as a mere closet-scholar. 
Besides, he was always connected with the practical 
world and had a circle of learned and sympathizing friends 
around him. Of course, he was thus preserved from the 
gloom, inactivity, and dulness, so pecuHar to closet-schol- 
ars, furnished with freedom of mind, and made acquaint- 
ed with men and human affairs. All these things produc- 
ed beneficial effects upon upon him, and served to develop 
his oratorical powers, expand and enrich his mind, and 
render him in almost every respect what Cicero requires 
an orator to be.* Much of his celebrity is no doubt to be 
attributed to the manner in w^hich he was associated with 
his father in early life, initiated into the classics, and 
made acquainted with the choicest specimens of eloquence 
in antiquity. It is true, there were many defects in the 
education he received, both at home and abroad. Had 
not a providential circumstance thrown Haller's poems in 
his way, he would hardly have ever become master of his 
own native language. At the university too, he failed to 
attend to some of the most necessary studies. All this, 
however, only goes to prove the natural vigor of that 
mind which enabled him to supply all these defects and to 
become learned, eloquent and useful, to a degree seldom 
attained.' 

The answer to the question. By what means did Rein- 
hard, weak and sickly as he was, succeed in accomplishing 
so much? must be sought for in his self-control, temper- 
ance, regularity, and careful attention to business. 

Always very severe towards himself, he had acquired 

* De oralore, 1. 1, var. loc. in the person of Crassus. 

*13 



150 reinhard's 

such a habit of struggRpg with pain, as seldom to permit 
it to interrupt his labors.. During his residence at the 
Gymnasium in Regensbur^,^ he was twice brought down 
with a burning fever which almost deprived him of exis- 
tence, and so weak was he, that his friends tried to per- 
suade him to relinquish all thoughts of ever entering the 
ministry. His whole life at the university was a constant 
scene of struggling with poverty. He then had but a 
groat* a day to live upon,, and often went entirely destitute 
of warm food. Nor did he fare much better during the 
commencement of his professorship at Wittemberg. Great 
earnings in this case were not to be thought of, so that 
notwithstanding the rich feasts daily presented to the mind, 
the poor body was often suffered to go empty. His self- 
denial in these respects united with his great efforts, in 
spite of the regularity of his life and the systematicalness 
of his studies, unquestionably created the germ of those 
stubborn corporeal diseases, which he bore for years in 
silence, but which, united with the misfortune he met with, 
in 1803, ultimately occasioned his death. 

Under such circumstances would it have been strange, 
if he had been subject to hypochondria, misanthropy, and 
dissociableness ? And yet with all his sickness, he expe- 
rienced nothing of the fury of the present nervous age, or 
of hypochondria. The dominion which he had acquired 
over himself by early exercise, regular occupation, and 
pious moderation, had secured him against this demon, 
and will secure everyone against h, who lives as Rein- 
hard did. The uncommon greatness of the man, howev- 
er, becomes still more conspicuous, when we consider, 
that, with all his inexorable severity and his efforts to con- 
quer his stubborn body as he used to call it, he never be- 
came unsociable, averse to amusement, inaccessible, pee- 
vish, or strongly rigorous against himself. Every part of his 
conduct in these respects was that of a rational man and a 
Christian. He has indeed been accused of severity to- 
wards others. He has never been complained of, how- 
ever, in this respect, except by idlers and voluptuaries, 
or those desirous of full reward for the most trifling merit ; 
and with his self-control, diligence and moderation, to- 

* GroscheD; a little less than a groat» 



CHARACTER, ETC. 151 

wards such persons, he might justly be severe ; though if 
he ever was so, it was only when the general prevalence of 
sloth and inactivity rendered it his duty to exhibit severity. 
At other times, he expressed himself respecting them only 
in harmless jokes and comparisons.^ 

He never paid any attention to the distinctions of prop- 
erty or employment in those who approached him, nor did 
he require those who addressed him, to use other titles 
than those peculiar to the forms of civility. Those who 
had important business to transact, conversed with him 
free!}^, and never saw any thing like displeasure on his 
countenance except when, by using a multiplicity of words, 
they robbed him of his precious time ; for to him in this 
respect, laconism and definiteness were of very great im- 
portance. It is true, he did not call every one a friend ; 
but then it should be recollected, that the man of deep hu- 
man knowledge, who has had numerous doubts and ac- 
quired his insight into the intricacies of the heart, more 
by closely observing himself than associating with others, 
does not often suffer the abused name of friendship to pass 
through his lips ; and hence, that appearance of open 
hearted ness with which the men of the world too often 
dazzle, does not constitute a part of his character. Rein- 
hard had attended carefully to the movements of the hu- 
man heart,f and hence, was slow in confiding in man. The 
Cicilian poet whispered into his ear as it did into Cicero's : 
* Live and learn not to trust, for this is the nerve of wis- 
Jom.'J He scorned however to veil his mistrust with the 
polished mask of the man of the world. Nor did this 
prove prejudicial to the goodness and innocence of his 
character. The pure heart cannot give itself up freely 
and happily to a man's friendship, until it has tried him ; 
and as soon as Reinhard had done so, he evinced himself 
susceptible of the most noble, generous, and joyful im- 

* He frequently compared idlers and voluptuaries with the Phaeaces of Ho- 
mer. It is probably owing to the severity of Reinhard's character, that he 
was often complained of, as haughty and proud. Those who made these com* 
plaints were certainly unacquainted with the man. 

t To be convinced of this, compare Jahrg. 1796, Pred. I, 249, entitled^ 
Every Tnan has his value, a sermon said to be one of the most perfect that 
modern eloquence has'produced; also the preface to the 2d ed. of these serm. S» 
Vni; and his very valuable work already mentioned, respecting a trifling spirit, 

t Polybius, Vol; VIH. p. 375, ed. Schweigh. 



152 reinhard's 

pressions, possessed of every genuine, social virtue, and 
capable of giving and receiving all the spice of life. Se- 
riousness constituted bis prevailing trait and generally sat 
upon bis countenance, but never to such a degree as to 
frighten others away from him or disturb their pleasure. 
He embraced the whole human family in his grasp of phi- 
lanthrophy and fraternal love, was often deeply affected on 
reading the events of a newspaper, sympathized in every 
thing relative to the learned, bis fellow citizens, his friends, 
and the great fable of man,^ and would gladly, were it in 
his power, have blended all the interests of those whom he 
knew so well how to describe, into one. . 

He was a spirited companion and excellent in conversa- 
tion. The weapons of dialectics which he knew how to 
use with such effect in his exanjinations and oratorical 
exercises, in such cases also served him an excellent pur- 
pose, furnished him with witty turns and remarks, and ren- 
dered him victorious without wounding. His faithful 
mernory retained an abundance of pleasing and interest- 
ing narratives which he told with great animation and ef- 
fect, and he was daily drawing new ones from reading 
the ancients and moderns, and hence, was in no danger of 
making repetitions. He was very agreeable in jesting, and 
fond of pithy turns and witty remarks on public occasions, 
and had a quiver full of them himself, though he made a 
cautious use of them ; by taking which course, he preserv- 
ed his own dignity, and always remained within the bounds of 
the strictest politeness, w^jile he added to the enjoyment of 
the table. At the richest meals he never transgressed the 
bounds of moderation, and oftener than otherwise suffer- 
ed plates, dishes and salvers to pass by him, untouched, 
frequently saying in the confidential circle of his friends, 
that he did not live to eat, but he eat to live. Hence, on 
such occasions, he had more time for conversation than 
most persons, and he improved it, being as Cicero says of 
himself, a man of less food than wit. His house was a 
temple of hospitality, genuine but not splendid. He usual- 
ly partook of a Socratic meal at home, for he was unw^il- 
ling to accept of invitations to go out on account of the 

* Hanc quasi fabulam eventorum nostrorurri; Cicero ad Div, V. 12, 19. 



CHARACTEB, ETC. 153 

loss of time it occasioned. There in his own little connpa- 
ny he exhibited his open heartedness and joyful demeanor, 
and diffused pleasure throughout the room. 

He was ever active in business, but his activity was not 
of a tumultuous, extravagant character, reckless of the 
laws of nature, and calculated to exhaust and ultimately 
annihilate the body. On the other hand, the day was di- 
vided into the most regular order, and in such a manner as 
to save the most time. Every hour had its destination. 
From this order, he was always unwilling to deviate. As 
soon as the hour arrived he went about his business, as 
soon as it had elapsed, he left it; nor could the choicest 
company chain him beyond the stated period. Nor was 
he mechanical in his habits of this kind, for his labors were 
alternated with reading, writing, study, walking, &:c., so 
that the day was agreeably diversified, while his strength 
was preserved from one day and hour to another for reg- 
ularly prosecuting his work."^ 

He awoke precisely at six o'clock, and arose without 
fail as soon as he awoke. The winter produced no change 
in this respect. The first succeeding hour was devoted to 
his most difficult and sacred task, — to committing to mem- 
ory the sermon which he was next to deliver, which he be- 
gan to rehearse on the morning after he last preached, and 
which had been written a week beforehand. As soon as 
he had entered his study, he repeated what he had gottea 
by heart, in order to connect it immediately with what fol- 
lowed. While he was going through this process, betook 
a cup of coffee, and a servant entered and dressed his 
hair, which he had never been able to exchange for a 
peruke, notwithstanding the violent remonstrances made 
with him at first, respecting it.f When this was done, he 
dressed himself without the aid of a servant, preferring in 
this respect to maintain the simple habits of his earlier 
years, and that independence for which the Greeks and 
princes of the heroic age were so distinguished. W^hen 

* Tzschirner's Briefe, T. 

t Reinhard brought back to Saxony the custom of Clergymen's wearing" 
their own hair. His want of a peruke excited loud murmurin^i^s when he first 
entered the faculty at Wittemberg;-. He replied, however, by pointing to the 
pictures of the great reformers, and showing that the custom of wearing false 
aair could not be supported by history. 



154 reinhard's 

this division of the day had elapsed he passed to reading 
the Scriptures, to him always the word of God, with which 
he consecrated himself to the work before him, and often 
connected a prayer, that they might be formed in ins soul 
in spirit and in truth. For this purpose he usually select- 
ed some detinite portion of the New Testament. The 
Psalms and the prophet Isaiah were his favorite books in 
the Old Testament. On such occasions, having a thorough 
knowledge of the Hebrew and its cognate dialects, he al- 
ways used the original languages, and he derived as great 
and varied pleasure from this exercise, as a |)hilologist 
does from tl)e perusal of a favorite Greek or Latin poet for 
the fifth or the tenth tirjie. It was the divine character of 
what he read, however,* which gave him his greatest pleas- 
ure, animated his heart, and rendered this a truly devo- 
tional exei'cise. To reading the Scriptures immediately 
succeeded the labor of his calling, such as reflection, and 
composing a sermon, to which work he usually applied 
the last half of the week, as then he had no sessions to 
attend, or reading the acts for the church and the chief 
consistory. During the three days of the session, the rest 
of the morning was usually devoted to the sessions of the 
board. The last hour of the forenoon, during the two 
first days of the week when there were no sessions, was 
statedly devoted to speaking. During the few moments 
allotted to dinner, lie usually gave the latest political 
new^spapers a hasty examination, and twice a week 
spent some time alter dinner in reading the latest public 
journals. On other days, this time, wasted by so many 
in the arms of sleep, was chiefly spent in reading his- 
tory. In every thing new that catne before him, he al- 
ways distinguished what he had read through, from what 
he had merely turned over. Whenever he found any 
thing worthy of an attentive perusal, he noted it down in 
a book kept for the purpose, a practice which he continu- 
ed until his last sickness, but of what he hastily passed 
over, he took no notice. He seldom took notes of any 
thing he read, except when it had some bearing upon his 
Christian Ethics. This arose in part from his frugality of 
time, and in part from the confidence he had in the good- 
ness of his memory for retaining matters of fact. Towards 



CHARACTER, ETC. 155 

three o'clock, he returned to writing and other business. 
If his heahh peruiiited, during the latter part of the after- 
Doon he took an excursion in the open air, — an excursion 
which he was unwilling to omit even in unfavorable weath- 
er, but which, to save time and shun observation, he 
often took in the evening. While at Wittemberg, af- 
ter his marriage, when he had a carriage at command, he 
usually took a short ride with his friend Schockh, in the 
open air, in the course of the afternoon. During the ear- 
lier part of his residence at Dresden, in compliance with 
the precepts of physicians and in obedience to the univer- 
sal prescription so much extolled by Klopstock, he substi- 
tuted riding on horseback for walking, being furnished v/ith 
a surefooted horse out of the royal stables for this purpose, 
but after the breaking of his leg in 1803, he could never 
be induced to mount a horse again, though he was^ ear- 
nestly intreated to do so, especially by his beloved brother- 
in-IaWj Lieut. General Baron v.Thielmann,u ho promised to 
be his faithful guardian, and a compliance with the request 
would doubtless have prolonged his valuable life. He al- 
ways found these excursions invigorating and refreshing, 
and well calculated to prepare him for the enjoyment, if 
not of a painless and undisturbed, yet of a tolerable night's 
repose. 

In the summer, which Reinhard generally spent at his 
residence in Wilsdruf one of the suburbs of Dresden, he 
used to walk for an hour about six or seven in the even- 
ing, up and down in his garden. Susceptible as he was of 
all the beauties of nature, he considered this a most de- 
lightful retreat. Here he was surrounded with the choic- 
est of Flora's children, collected together from all climates, 
each in its proper place inviting him to silent contempla- 
tion, especially the pink, carnation and tulip, with whose 
ever varying beauties he was particularly delighted. In 
one part of it, there was a circular arch, formed of the 
thick foliage of leaves, in the midst of which there was 
a living spring. Here, beneath the cooling shade, dur- 
ing the warm evenings of summer, the tea-table was set, 
around which, a few confidential friends united in social 
intercourse. On the one hand, it was adorned with works 
of art, on the other with an apiary and its busy inmates. 



156 reinhard's 

Not far off, stood a green house, in which there was 
a cabinet easy, to be warmed through, to which resort 
was had in the cold days of the season."^ Of course, 
Reinhard was driven from this pleasant retreat in the 
winter, but he found an excellent substitute for it in his 
library, in the upper apartment of his official residence 
in the city, which was now nearer at hand. This he con- 
sidered as his treasure-chamber, and going up to it and 
returning from it furnished him with agreeable exercise. 
It contained not a single useless production, was well 
selected, received continual additions, and, together with 
his papers, was always kept in the highest order. 

When Reinhard had no guests to wait upon, he usu- 
ally passed the evening in reading or writing in his study, 
almost always pursuing the same order, until about eight 
o'clock ; when he was called to his frugal repast. Dur- 
ing this time, he wrote his more important letters. Those 
of his fetters relating merely to visits and the duties of 
his office, he dispatched in those fragments of time which 
others idle away. 

Reinhard however had a great number of letters to 
write upon theological, literary, and other important sub- 
jects, which were altogether dry and unattractive, and 
yet required extensive preparatory investigation. Saxo- 
ny, long distinguished for her men of learning and acute- 
ness, had had more literary characters than any other 
German state, in whom had been awakened the desire 
of authorship. Called as he was by the station he oc- 
cupied, to exercise a general superintendence over the 
institutions of the country, it was natural that bis opinion 
should be sought for by all who carried this desire into 
effect. Hence, of almost every work great or small, in 
his department, published in Saxony, and of many pub- 
lished in foreign countries, during the last twenty years 
of his life, numerous as they were, he received a copy 
from the proprietor or author, with an earnest request 
for a preliminary notice or essay. With critical insti- 
tutes, from the moment he became general superintend- 
ent, he refused to have any thing to do. To the re- 

* A very minute description is given by Bottiger, of Reinhard's garden, 
which seems io have been an elegant one, and was occasionally honored with 
l>oetical descriptions in Latin. 



CHARACTER, ETC» 157 

quests he thus received, however, he conscientiously at- 
tended, without respect to person, knowledge or country; 
for he made it an invariable rule to write a friendly 
letter to every author of such requests, in which he 
either approved of ihe work or kindly pointed out its 
errors ; and many there are in Saxony and elsewhere, 
who must acknowledge themselves greatly indebted to 
his counsel and encouragement in this respect. For- 
eign sermons were the only things he was unwilling to 
meddle with, though, being censor for Dresden, it was 
his duty to do so, and he has often been accused of 
negligence with respect to these publications ; but call- 
ed upon to examine thousands of works as he was ev- 
ery year, it was natural that an occasional sermon 
should sometimes escape his notice. To all this, add 
the advice in cases of conscience, which was often re- 
quired of him, especially by persons of rank ; the num- 
erous letters he received in consultation respecting eccle- 
siastical and literary affairs, to all which he gave de- 
tailed, conscientious replies, and often with the happiest 
results ; and it will be easy to perceive that his corres- 
pondence was very extensive and required much time. 
Reinhard's supper was as simple as his dinner. He 
drank nothing but a glass of wine mixed with some wa-. 
ter and seldom eat of more than one dish, though sev- 
eral were set on the table. At tea, he usually met with 
friends, and strangers from a distance, who, passing 
through the place, had called upon him as a matter of 
old acquaintance or by letters of recommendation, with 
whom he indulged in lively conversation and pleasing 
turns and remarks. " Thanks to God," he used to say, 
on such occasions. " sanctify, and pleasing conversation 
adds spice to, every dish." After tea, if no visiters 
were present, he used to play a few tunes upon a harp- 
sichord which always stood in his parlor^ in doing which, 
he generally gave himself up to his own imagination. 
As he was very fond of sacred songs and by the se- 
lections he made of hymns for his sermons, showed 
that he knew when they were lyrical, and used fre- 
quently to play some fine choral song, always singing as 
he played, from the strain of his music it was in general 
easy to ascertain the discord or the harmony of the deep- 
14 



158 reinhard's 

est feelings of his soul, and the general character of the 
thoughts which occupied his mind. Often, when in writ- 
ing or meditation, he found himself perplexed with a 
train of thought or unable to develop it with sufficient 
clearness, he ran out to his harpsichord in the parlor, 
and generally not in vain; for a few touches upon it re- 
duced every thing to calmness and regularity. After 
preaching also, he used to refresh himself by playing 
some spiritual voluntary upon this instrument, giving him- 
self u|) to the feelings which pervaded his heart. An 
accomplished musician or player he did not pretend to 
be. In his youth while at Regensburg, in private con- 
certs, he had played the second violin, and under the 
instruction of the distinguished Kiistner, had made con- 
siderable progress in playing upon the harpsichord. Af- 
terwards, however, the serious business of life left him 
no time or desire for playing agreeably to *he rules of art. 
He generally closed the evening by reading, or causing 
his wife to read for him, some easy, enlightening, sooth- 
ing piece ; this presenting him with the advantage of 
permitting all effort to cease, and agreeably preparing 
the way for sleep. Only when greatly pressed with bus- 
iness, and hence, in extraordinary cases, did he take up 
his pen after supper. By llie rules of his harmonious 
and strictly regulated life, all study by the midnight 
lamp was wholly forbidden. 

Reinhard never had any children of his own, but yet 
he showed himself in the tenderest sense, the child's 
friend. Several of his sermons, particularly those preach?- 
ed on fasts and the assembling of the Diet, treat expressly 
of the education of children, and contain genuine Chris- 
tian rules for governing them in a proper manner, though, 
for reasons easy to be comprehended, he always laugh- 
ed at the numerous pompous professions of modern ped- 
agogics, and felt some distrust in Peslalozzi's method of 
instruction, at least in the universality of its application. 
He always embraced the diligent youth of the high school 
at Pforte in the arms of real paternal love and called 
them his sons. For many of the youth in the schools 
and universities of the country, he exhibited the assid- 
uous and faithful care of a father. Like all men distin- 
guished for their greatness and goodness, he delighted to 



CHARACTER, ETC. 159 

see the pure happiness and the simple plays of active little 
children. Only a few days before his death, he spent 
some time with a kind lad, one of his relatives, w^ho had 
been brought up almost under his eye, in urging him to 
attend to pious instruction, as ha was one year older. 
To those in want he was always very liberal. Many 
were the calls he received from the wretched who await- 
ed for him in their places as he passed along the street, 
nor were they ever left unsatisfied. From the pecuni- 
ary aid thrown into charity boxes on particular days on 
which he preached, he had for good reasons as he 
thought, added to the amount of his spending money, un- 
til it enabled him to support one hundred and twenty 
poor people. The assistance, however, which he receiv- 
ed in this way was very small, and he increased it by 
various extraordinary contributions. His name was to 
be found on every subscription list for a benevolent ob- 
ject, and in liberal terms. He did not confine his be- 
nevolence, however, to the poor with whom he was im- 
mediately surrounded. He sent forth his contributions 
in every quarter, for, from all quarters he received press- 
ing solicitations for contributions. Many in urging their 
claims upon him, might degenerate into obtrusiveness, 
but he gave still. Ingratitude did not cause him to err, 
or withdraw his kindness. Respecting the worthiness 
or the unw^orthiness of the objects of his charity, he 
seldom entered into any very minute or extensive ex- 
amination. The man needs it now ! that satisfied Rein- 
hard ; for though he honored nice calculations and in- 
quiries in booksellers and the stewards of public institu- 
tions of benevolence, he did not in the giver. When- 
ever contributions were called for to meet wants created 
by some great and sudden calamity, whether at home or 
abroad, he always came forward among the first and most 
generous. The fire at Regensburg in 1809, and the 
powder explosion at Eisenach in 1810, excited his 
most tender sympathy. To Luther's monument, how- 
ever, he contributed very unwillingly and only a single 
piece of money ; ' for,' said he, * every new reformation 
festival and every verse of his translation of the Bible, 
renders this superfluous.' Indeed, he foretold the fate of 
this contribution with almost prophetical certainty, for it 



160 reinhard's 

was lost in and with Magdeburg. He contributed with 
the greatest generosity and pleasure, however, to the sup- 
port of new schools and institutions of instruction, and, 
though he considered the system of giving stipends as 
in many respects defective, as it gives rise to abuses and 
hypocritical pretensions, yet he yearly disposed of con- 
siderable suAs by way of stipends to poor students,vvho were 
either his godchildren or had been recommended to him. 
To selfishness, that rust of little souls, as well as to 
envy, prejudice, and partiality in promotion, this great 
man was equally a stranger. Indeed, he was often heard 
to speak with satisfaction of the fact that he was child- 
less, and as a stranger, must be entirely free from the 
most gently whispered suspicion of having favored 
his relatives. The man who conducted as the fittest 
and worthiest, God only being thoroughly acquaint- 
ed with the heart, was always his favorite. Such an 
one he considered as his friend, while he counselled, re- 
commended, and assisted him as far as it was in his 
power. He seldom took any thing for performing the 
duties of his office. Whatever he received in this way, 
he almost always handed over to the colleagues next to 
him in rank in the evangelical Court Church. He would 
scarcely ever receive any thing but books from his pub- 
lishers for some of his choicest productions. All that 
he required of them was, to sell his works at a mod- 
erate price. They did so, and this accounts for the in- 
crease made in the price of subsequent editions. In- 
deed, he almost absolutely and unconditionally gave 
many of them away. The sum of three hundred dol- 
lars, which, according to the constitution, he received for 
every sermon he preached on the assembling of the 
Diet, he devoted to some pious object. In 1811, he 
disposed of it as a small premium-fund for diligent 
alumni, at St. Afra. For a sermon which he deliver- 
ed on the third Advent Sunday in the University Church 
at Leipsic, in 1808, he was offered various and large 
sums, but he disposed of it for a work which was not 
in the university library, but which was to be presented 
to it by the publisher. Of course, he never made men- 
tion of these circumstances. 

Reinhard had exalted views of the marriage state. 



^ CHARACTER, ETC. 161 

Upon this subject he was wont to say with Luther, one 
of his favorite authors; 'a pious, humble, sympathizing 
- and domestic wife, with whom a man can live satisfied 
and happy, and to whom he can intrust his property 
and whatever he has, yea his life and body, is one of 
the highest and best gifts of God.'"^ Of the truth of 
^ this he was well convinced from experience ;f for he 
had two wives in the course of his life, who constantly 
stood by him, and, like genii, attended to all his wants; 
without whose aid it would have hardly been possible 
for him to attain to such perfection as he actually did, 
in observing the principles of virtue and happiness which 
he had selected as the rule of his conduct. His first 
wife was the widow of the learned theologian, John Chr. 
Schmid of Wittemberg, his former teacher and friend, 
well knownj even in foreign countries, for his applica- 
tion of his knowledge of French to theological purpo- 
ses, and his defence of the Canon of the sacred Scrip- 
tures. Reinhard had been an inmate of this man's 
family and derived much benefit from intercourse with 
him and access to his select library. He was well known 
therefore to Mrs. Schmid, who, on the death of her 
husband, considered this poor young professor, then 
just entering his academical career, splendidly distin- 
guished as he was for his lectures, and remarkably strict 
and exemplary in attending to religion and the per- 
formance of his duties, as of all others the most de- 
serving of her hand; and hence, resolved to go with 
him through life. The marriage was a happy one, 
though not of long continuance, for Reinhard lost her 
and her son, whom he loved exceedingly, and had taken 
great pains to instruct, the second year after his remo- 
val to Dresden. She possessed a feeble constitution, 
but a w^ell-educated and matured mind, united with no- 
bleness of soul, sound judgment, and a discriminating 
knowledge of men and things/ and was highly interest- 

* See Bredow's Katharine von Boren, Minerva aufs Jahr. 1813, S. 327. 

t See his precious sermon Respeciivg a disposition for the domestic virtues, 
(vom SinnefOr die Hauslichkeit.) Jahrff. 1801, I. 47, with which compare his 
Moral, III, 309-461 5 IV. 694. 

i Saxii Onomasticum; T. VII, p. 222 ff. 



182 REINHARD S 

mg and profitable in conversation."^ To the not incon- 
siderable property which she brought with her. Rein- 
hard w^as indebted for the greater security and inde- 
pendence he enjoyed after her death in those relations 
of life which he was called to sustain. 

For his second wife, Reinhard selected the daughter of 
Von Charpentier, captain of the mines, and immortal as a 
mineralogist and metallurgist in the annals of Freyberg, 
and the history of the art of mining. She was of a fami- 
ly distinguished for the union of uprightness and hospitali- 
ty with the finest sense of art, and frequented by men of 
genius from both the north and the south of Germany, — 
was amiable, full of soul, blessed with excellencies of body 
and mind, and adorned with the female virtues. She 
carefully studied the character of her husband, and en- 
deavored to render his troublesome life, easy, useful and 
happy. Indeed, as Reinhard's study door generally stood 
open, so that his study and parlor constituted as it were but 
one room, she may be said to have been alw^ays present 
with him while he was engaged in his domestic business ; 
never interrupting him, but ever faithful, watchful, and ten- 
derly attentive to his wants. He could not feel solitary 
while she was about him. Sometimes she acted as his li- \ 
brarian, and directed his letters, at others as his travelHng 
marshal. f She read, sung, or played to him on the harp- 
sichord to comfort him when weary, and watched over him 
with the tenderest, most affectionate solicitude in his sick- 
ness, and to the last moment of his life, seldom calling to 
her aid the assistance of others, but presenting herself dai- 
ly and hourly at his bedside, in a manner which fully 
evinced the real pleasure she felt in being there. To 
her extraordinary efforts in taking care of Reinhard, we 

* He doubtless had her in view^ when he wrote the passage : Animadvert! 
feminas — celeritate iudicii viris non rare et multum antecellere3 Opusc. 
Acad. II. 177 seqq. 

t Reinhard practised what he himself has recommended in a physical and 
ascetical respect, (Moral, IV. 618 ff.^) as a means of restoring and invigorat- 
ing the system 5 namely, journeying. From 1795 to 1803, he made a journey 
every summer, in addition to those which he was obliged to niake in perform- 
ing the duties of his office, and always in company with his faithful and belov- 
ed wife. On one of these occasions , he formed an acquaintance with the Mo- 
ravian Brethren ; on another, visited his native place , on a third, rehewed the 
scenes of his youth at Regensburg or Ratisbon as it is usually called in Eng-» 
lish 5 on a fourth visited a sister, married to a clergyman settled in Lower Sax- 
ony 5 and in 1802, he visited Vienna, where he spent several weeks,— a jour-% 
ney which he afterwards ever mentioned with the greatest satisfaction. 



CHARACTERj ETC. 163 

are, humanly speaking, indebted for the preservation of his 
life from the year 1803,^ and the blessing he proved dur- 
ing a space of nine years, in preaching, writing and other 
labors, not only to Saxony, but to the whole Protestant 
world. With justice did he call her his guardian angel. 
Often in moments of severe anguish did he speak of her in 
grateful terms, and as his end drew near, return thanks to 
God for having sent him such a faithful nurse to pray and 
suffer wiih him, alleviate his pains and fill him with such joy 
and consolation. Nor will others soon forget her. Where- 
ever the German language is spoken, Reinhard's sermons 
produce their legitimate effects upon the heart, and any 
are left to rejoice at his lengihened activity, the name of 
Ernestine Reinhard and her domestic devotion will be 
mentioned with reverence and gratitude. 

But here we must draw this imperfect account to a close 
and take our leave of Reinhard and the reader. We 
might indeed dwell longer upon his character with delight^ 
but time and space forbid. ' What has been said respect- 
ing him,' says Bottiger in the preface to tlie work frona 
which most of the preceding account has been taken, ' has 
been drawn from the most authentic sources. 1 have been 
intimatelv acquainted with him since 1804, and have consci- 
entiously endeavored to exhibit him as he appeared to me. 
He was indeed a man and doubtless sometimes erred, but I 
have never discovered a secret fault in him, and half of 
Europe acknowledges his excellence as a Christian and a 
scholar. With him theory and practice were united. He 
had not two coats or two faces, one for private life and an- 
other for the public. He did not speak every thing he 
thought^ but he always thought as be spake, and was con- 
sistent in his convictions and actions, until death. His 
most bitter enemies have never suspected him of being in- 
fluenced by selfishness, and all my acquaintance with him 
goes to prove what I hope has already been rendered ap- 
parent, that his activity did not originate in ambition, but in 
the most conscientious zeal for the cause of God and the- 
good of man.' 

He was distinguished for wonderful activity and genuine 

* He has erected a public memorial to her care and assiduity in watching 
over him while he w-^s confined in Chemnitz m 1803, durino^ which painful sea-* 
son, she was his only nurse, day and night. See Jahrg. i804, Fred. 1. S. 16* 



164 reinhard's 

piety, a childlike goodness and amiableness of heart, as any 
one must be convinced who has attended to what has been 
said respecting him, — was always mild towards others but 
severe towards himself, and marked with genuine humility. 
True Christian feeling pervaded his very soul. He resem- 
bled John in love, and Paul in zeal and firmness. A sin- 
cere minister he used to say, must, like the coal of Christ, 
be without seam or patch-work. He made it his object 
from his earliest years, to exhibit a holy and just consistency 
in acting according to immutable principles, and to main- 
tain that uniformity of character through life, which is so 
much extolled by Cicero. Hence, he was utterly averse to 
all half measures whether in great things or small, even in 
improving the hturgy; firmly opposed those notions which 
make virtue a periodical concern graduated by the ther- 
mometer of effervescing feelings; could not toleiate that pro- 
lixity which creeps around duties and promises, and hated 
inactivity as the very gate of Hades. Humble before God 
and man, and from his heart convinced of the imperfec- 
tion of all human efforts, his only wish was, to work while 
it was day, and to be found engaged in his master's business. 
To man the holy ardor of his soul has ceased to glow", the 
powers of his mind to expand. All that was mortal of him 
has been conveyed away from the view of weeping friends 
and mourning thousands, to the silent tomb. His sun has 
ceased to shine, but it has gone out in the surpassing splendor 
of the Sun of righteousness. His example, however, still 
lives upon earth. In his own eloquent language we may say 
of him : '' Noble friend of truth and goodness, God has 
called thee, but death shall not stop thy influence. From 
generation to generation shall the light which thou hast 
enkindled and inrreased, stream forth in new and more 
brilliant rays. From generation to generation shall the 
feeling which thou hast excited, the virtue which thou hast 
planted, the piety which thou hast cherished, (he Christian 
love which thou hast extended abroad, remain rich and 
inexhaustible sources of blessing to mankind, and continue 
to exert their benign, their hallowed influence, when thy 
name has faded from the world."* 

* Jahri^. 1801, Th. I. S. 449. This passage was repeated at the solemniza- 
tion of Rt^'mharu's death in Chemnitz, Dec. 20, 1812, and produced a visible 
«flfect. Iiis from Mark 16. 14—20, and treats of ihe sahjtary influence which 
should he exerted by Christians upon earth alter their death. ^ 



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